Galaxy of Us
by scoundrel's princess
Summary: A galaxy: a complex system of stars, stellar remnants, interstellar gas, dark matter and dust held together by gravitational attraction. That was the only way she could possibly describe their relationship. Forceful, bright and all-consuming. Gravitational attraction was what held them together.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there! I'm new to the site, although I love to write and this is the first time I've written on Han and Leia - probably my first ever OTP. I've always wondered what happened in the years between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, so here's my take on it, including Han and Leia's first meeting, and what happens during the next two movies and possibly after their marriage as well. Don't even get me started on TFA, my poor heart is still recovering. Obviously, it's gonna be a multi-chapter fic. Do leave your comments and criticism, I'd love to know what you think and feedback to improve is always great!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, much as I'd love a scoundrel of my own ;)**

* * *

" _Wonderful girl! Either I'm gonna kill her or I'm beginning to like her!"_ – _Han Solo, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope_

Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan, and Rebel Leader, was up to her ankles in waste and discarded machinery in a trash compactor. Lovely.

Her rescuers…or to be precise, a Wookie, a spirited, yet inexperienced boy and a scruffy, trigger-happy, irksome man…were stuck there with her. "Some rescue mission," she muttered to herself, echoing her words from earlier, gingerly finding a perch on more solid ground. She had just had possibly the most trying week of her existence. From being captured and tortured by Vader to having her home planet…no, she refused to dwell upon that. Not now.

Grief made her strong and brusque, yelling at the man who had just stupidly shot off his blaster in the confined space, "Put that thing away! You're gonna get us all killed!"

"Absolutely, your Worship," he retorted in a sardonic tone that got under her skin, "Look, I had everything under control until you led us down here! Now it's not going to take them long to figure out what happened to us."

She knew he was right. About the latter at least. "Could be worse," she muttered sullenly.

The pile of scrap metal she stood upon shifted. There was a low growl. She had a bad feeling about this.

"It's worse," the man murmured.

The following events passed in a horrific blur before her eyes. The boy, Luke, was suddenly dragged down into the murky depths of the muck below by some unseen force. The man pushed his hands through, frantically attempting to reach for him but found nothing.

Luke's head emerged with a splash, a thick tentacle firmly wrapped around his neck, like a coiled snake. After attempts made by both the man and Leia to help him, the former shooting with his blaster, Leia reaching out with a metal pole, Luke disappeared once more. A grim silence and Leia's heart thudded against her chest.

Another loud splash and Luke resurfaced, gasping. The creature had released him. But why?

The loud screech of metal rubbing on metal greeted her ears. The four looked around warily. Much to Leia's horror, she realized the walls were closing in on them. "Don't just stand there, try and brace it with something!" she ordered, trying to raise a heavy metal bar. The man helped her, as Luke attempted to come into contact with his friend, Threepio.

When the wall space was half the breadth it had been originally, the man hoisted her up by the waist, attempting to raise her to higher ground. "Get on top!" he barked.

"I can't!" she hated the way her voice sounded in that moment, young and fearful. He continued to grip her arms and legs, pushing her higher, "Get on top of it!"

"I'm trying!" she struggled, though soon it was no longer a struggle, as the trash became compacter.

The walls continued to close in as Luke still vainly attempted to communicate with his friend, "Shut down all the garbage compacters on the detention level!"

She winced. The walls were still closing inward and then…they stopped.

The four of them looked around in disbelief. A widening smile spread over Leia's face in relief, as they began to shriek in delight. The man pulled her into his arms in a tight celebratory hug. He was so much larger than her, she felt all-encompassed, though it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation either.

Once they had made their way out of the compacter and onto the deck of the ship, the man and the boy began to pull off their clone suits. Leia smoothed down her attire and patted back her hair ineffectually, sneaking furtive glances at the two, despite herself. The boy was thin and lanky, possibly her age or younger, she allowed, with a boyish sort of handsomeness. The man, for he certainly was a man, tall, broad, strength etched into the very planes of his arms, was exceedingly attractive, radiating with a devil-may-care aura that Leia instantly recognized as trouble. He had a thick mop of scruffy brown hair with a set to his face that might have been hard if not for the dry humor lurking behind his dark eyes. He was messy, arrogant and the type more likely to shoot before he thought.

She made that clear in her cool words to him, "I don't know who you are or where you came from. But from now on, you'll do as I tell you. Okay?" her tone left no room for argument, as she strode past him, however, that didn't stop him from following, outrage evident in his voice, "Look your Worship, let's get one thing straight, I take orders from just one person. Me."

"It's a wonder you're still alive," she said sweetly.

* * *

Han Solo, well-known experienced smuggler and silver-tongued flatterer, had just escaped the Death Star, rescuing an ungrateful, stuck-up princess with his Wookie best friend, an innocent boy and an old man.

Her Worshipfulness was a handful, that was for sure. He didn't know whether he wanted to strangle her or kiss her senseless, just to piss her off. Not that she wasn't a looker. She was beautiful, he could grudgingly admit, in an ice-princess, unattainable sort of way. Whether she actually possessed a heart inside remained to be seen. He certainly wasn't going to be the one to find out. Once he got his reward, he'd be outta there. And he told her so.

"If money's all that you love, then that's what you'll receive," she replied calmly, yet with a condemning look in her eyes that disturbed him. It wasn't often that his conscience troubled him, hell, he liked to think he didn't have one. The only person he really cared about other than himself was Chewbacca. He didn't care for heroics or gallantry. He brushed off her words roughly as she left, passing by Luke on her way out, "Your friend is quite a mercenary. I wonder if he really cares about anything. Or anyone."

"I care," the kid mumbled in a sort of awed daze, Han noted with amusement. He was dead-gone on her.

"So…what do you think of her, Han?" Luke sidled into the seat next to him with the eager inquiry.

"I'm trying not to, kid," Han muttered, in an effort at indifference. "Good," Luke responded with unconcealed satisfaction.

At that however, he couldn't resist teasing him a little, glancing around to make sure Leia had left, "Still…she's got a lot of spirit…I don't know, what do ya think? You think a princess and a guy like me-"

"No!" Luke interrupted defiantly before he could finish.

Han only grinned. The kid's words couldn't hurt him. Even he knew his limits and seducing a princess was far out of his reach. Especially that one. He didn't think he'd ever met anyone who got on his nerves quite as much as Her Highness.

It was that innate controlling nature of hers, he decided, that put him off. She was proud, but beyond that, she was domineering, something that went against every fibre of Han's being. He took orders from just one person. Himself.

Still, he couldn't quite forget the feel of her petite body in his arms as he'd helped her atop of the trash and held her. Odd. He generally preferred his women taller. The princess came barely up to his chest. And yet, she was a firebrand. She had no trouble with speaking to him as though she was looking down at him. He had a grudging admiration for that. She was no push-over, that was for sure.

He wasn't quite sure how she maintained that up-do of hers. Her thick wealth of sable-brown hair seemed too heavy to be coiled up in those side buns of hers, especially to be held up by such a dainty, slender neck. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Enough of the princess. That one was trouble.

He'd be taking her to her rebel base and that'd be the end of it. Collect his reward, settle his debt to Jabba and he was a free man. Probably never see the kid or the cold princess ever again.

Somehow the thought didn't make him as cheerful as he expected.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Your friend is quite a mercenary. I wonder if he really cares about anything…or anyone."_ – Leia Organa, Star Wars: A New Hope

* * *

Leia found herself a small alcove where she curled up and sat, staring out into the stars. She had needed this time to be alone. Not to allow herself to _feel_ , but to strategize. There would be time for grief later. Now it hid, coiled into a painful lump at the back of her throat. She refused to let tears surface. Her personal loss would only hinder her judgements; she could not allow for that. Not now, not when they were so close…

Having been held hostage in the _Death Star_ had not been some mindless wait for an impending execution, she had taken calculated observations of the layout of the ship, just in case she had managed to escape. She had been trained too well to simply "give up". She may have been a Princess, but neither was she spoilt nor prone to hysterics. In fact, she had always rather secretly despised the title. "Princess" made her sound incapable, weak. Like a damsel in distress. And she was none of those things.

Although, she realized with some humour, she had definitely been rescued. Yet, she couldn't exactly call the odd trio her "knights in shining armor" either.

Chewbacca, the Wookiee, sat across from her by a table in silence, respectful of her privacy. She now felt a little remorseful for calling him a "walking carpet" earlier. Sometimes her smart mouth got the better of her. She told him so in a quiet tone. He grunted back in his own language, nodding his head in a gesture of acceptance. She knew a little Shyriiwook and so when he asked, "Wwwah rrroooaaah wha?" as a way of a peace offering, pointing to the holochess board, she realized he wanted to play a game with her.

She hesitated, "I don't really know how to play."

Chewbacca motioned for her to join him anyway, "I'll teach you."

Some ten minutes later, and she was deeply engrossed in the game, planning her next move. Chewbacca would grunt approvingly whenever she made a good move against him and she was beginning to like the Wookiee. He certainly wasn't domineering or as arrogant as his counterpart. "How did the three of you come to find me?" she questioned, as she planned her next move thoughtfully.

Chewbacca immediately launched into a detailed and lengthy explanation of the events that had transpired. She only understood about half of what he was telling her, but she got the gist of it. Luke and Obi-Wan had enlisted Han and Chewbacca to pilot them to Alderaan. Having gotten caught by the _Death Star_ 's tractor beam, they had hidden in the storage for smuggled goods – at this her eyebrows had shot up, but she said nothing – then disguised themselves as clones, with Chewbacca pretending to be their prisoner. While Obi-Wan disabled the tractor beam and later duelled with Vader, Luke, Han and Chewbacca had come to rescue her. It was Luke's plan, the Wookiee informed her, though while the boy had courage, he hadn't exactly had things all planned out.

"I can imagine," she responded dryly.

"You're going to fight the Empire, then?" Chewbacca queried with interest.

"That's the plan. I know the layout of the Death Star by memory and I'm sure there's a weakness somewhere that we can take advantage of."

"It's a big ship," Chewbacca commented skeptically.

"Everything has its own weakness," Leia pointed out. Even she did.

Her thoughts travelled back without her own accord, of being interrogated and tortured by Vader. He had probed and attempted to search through her mind until she felt sick enough to hurl. He had used the Force, thin, warped tendrils of dark power that snaked through her defenses. And yet, she had pushed back, stubbornly, closing her mind to him. He had tried everything, from creating terrible mind-delusions to wreak intense fear, to physical torture. Her arm still throbbed painfully from the sharp needles that had sunk so easily into her skin; Vader had drawn blood with some perverse pleasure, as though the sight of it, bright and crimson against her white attire and pale skin had proven some concession on her part. But she had remained stoic and silent. And finally, Tarkin had grown tired of these futile attempts to gain the whereabouts of the rebel base and instead threatened to destroy her home. Still, she had been strong, lying to him.

He had destroyed her home anyway.

She felt a swell of emotion rise up within her. Either that, or the massive headache she'd gotten ever since Vader's torture sessions had begun was taking its effects on her empty stomach. She rose up from the chair awkwardly, "Refreshers?"

Chewbacca pointed in the direction, concernedly asking her if she was alright, to which she could give no coherent answer, stumbling blindly across to the refreshers. She didn't even have the strength to slide the door shut behind her, as she vomited, her hands weakly gripping the sink, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face.

She had been strong for too long.

* * *

"We're almost at Yavin," Han told Chewie through the intercom, yawning. It had been a long, eventful day and he was completely exhausted.

"The Princess has been in the refreshers for a long time," his friend replied in a worried tone.

"Probably fixing that up-do of hers," Han shrugged, "You know how women are."

"Not this one," Chewie said unexpectedly. Han knew he was right.

"Did you check up on her?"

"I didn't want to disturb her privacy."

"So, you're sending me to be the scape-goat? I think her Worship would much rather see you than me, anyway. She thinks I'm a good-for-nothing gold-digger."

"You are," Han could hear Chewie's grin through his amused tone.

"I'll send Luke-" he turned to the kid, but he was fast asleep, looking so peaceful that Han felt bad to disturb him. He'd become rather fond of the kid, despite himself. Better let him sleep. If he was gonna join the rebels on some fool heroic adventure, he'd need all the sleep now that he could get.

"Ah, hell. You owe me for this one."

Chewie only chuckled, informing him that he'd come to pilot. Han got the distinct impression that his Wookiee friend rather enjoyed seeing him getting taken down a notch by her Highness.

He wandered down to the refreshers. He could hear the water running and the harsh sound of a hacking cough. He winced; it sounded like her Worship was pretty sick.

He knocked on the door, in a gentler tone than normal, "Hey, we're gonna reach Yavin soon."

There was no response; she probably couldn't hear him. It was slightly ajar so he ventured in. The sight before him took him aback. Gone was the smart-mouthed, high-and-mighty Princess. Instead he saw a young girl, sick and in grief, the intricate hairstyle coming unpinned in wisps around her small face. She still had not registered his presence.

Ignoring the putrid smell of vomit, he moved behind her to tentatively hold back her hair. She continued to cough into the sink, though no more was to be expelled from her stomach. He doubted she even realized he was there, standing by her. She seemed to be lost in some world of her own; while she wasn't crying, her eyes were glassy and a little red and she was shaking.

He rubbed her shoulders awkwardly. While he held little affection for her and did not know in the least how to show comfort, he couldn't exactly brush off her pain like it was nothing. As much as he tried to convince others, and himself, that he was nothing more than a selfish, cocky bastard, he did have a bit of a heart. Seeing people in such gut-wrenching emotional distress unnerved him like nothing else could.

After a while, Leia's shoulders ceased to spasm and her eyes returned to focus. Han let go of her, taking a step back in order to steel himself. As she realized who stood behind her, she recoiled with a glare in his direction, "You!"

"Easy, easy, your Worship," he held his hands out and spoke in a pacifying tone as though to a startled animal, "I just came to tell you that we've almost reached your rebel base."

She relaxed slightly, though she was still flushed with embarrassment, switching to her normal snarky tone, "Do you have any notion of privacy?"

"None at all," he replied cheerfully, relieved that she seemed to be back to normal, "I asked Chewie to come tell you, but he's too much of a coward. So he sent me in here instead."

She opened her mouth as to retort, then closed it abruptly. He had a feeling he knew the origins behind her sickness. He had heard stories of the extent of Darth Vader's evil. Suffice it to say, he was definitely more machine than man. "Vader's not exactly a benevolent host, is he?"

She laughed humorlessly, "That's one way to look at it."

"You're not doing half-bad considering the circumstances. I mean, you had no trouble with fighting your way outta there, Princess."

She arched an eyebrow, "I may be a Princess, but that doesn't make me defenseless or weak."

"Seeing as you're the first Princess I've met, I guess you'll have to forgive me for my assumptions."

She tipped her head forward slightly in a nod, "Seeing as you're the first smuggler I've met, I guess you'll have to forgive me for mine as well."

It was the closest they would come to a mutual understanding. He couldn't resist rankling her up a bit, however, as he gave her his most cocky grin, "Why? Didn't expect us to be quite so charming?"

She looked at him with disdain, "You're many things, Captain, but charming is definitely not the adjective I'd use." She grabbed a towel to wipe her face with.

"Devastatingly good-looking? Vastly intelligent? A damn good pilot and shot?" he offered, noting the specks of blood on the white cloth draped over her shoulder. He said nothing of it, though. Something told him any more compassion on his part would not be welcomed.

"How about, arrogant, high-handed and mercenary?" she tossed the towel at him. He caught it easily, leaning against the wall, "That too."

It felt a little odd not to be arguing with her. Yet, he felt no desire now to make her angry.

Realizing she probably hadn't eaten for a while, he suggested, "Let's go eat something before we land, I'm starving."

She followed him out, albeit a little reluctantly, "Where's Luke?" her tone showed concern for the kid. She definitely liked the boy a lot better than him. With good reason.

"Sleeping. Poor kid's all tuckered out." Leia looked at him strangely for a moment.

"What?" he didn't particularly like the expression on her face.

"Nothing. Just for a moment there I wondered if you're as mercenary as you make yourself out to be."

"Don't get your hopes up, Princess. I'm as mercenary as they come. I'm only in this fool adventure of yours for the money, you know that."

"I know," she replied, not bothering to insult him like she had the previous time. He didn't particularly like the resignation in her tone either, as though she'd figured him out, didn't know what to do with him, and had simply decided to leave him be, as though not worth the effort.

He said nothing in response, however, and after finding them some food cubes to munch on, they sat in companionable silence by the holochess table. Noting that the game had only been half completed, he looked at her in disbelief, "You know how to play?"

"Chewbacca taught me," she shrugged, though she looked rather pleased with herself.

"Chewie?" he repeated, astounded. Since when had his furry friend and the Princess been on comfortable terms? Not to mention, since when had the aggressive Wookiee ever deigned to teach someone to play holochess? It had been only recently that Han had lazily informed C-3PO of Chewie's rather belligerent tendencies towards a loss at holochess. And yet, his friend had not only played with the Princess – who, had previously referred to him as a – what was it again? Ah yes, a "big, walking carpet," – he had even taught her strategies, judging by the game set before him, helping her win. Han shook his head, feeling a little winded. Of all the bizarre situations he'd been in today, this one had to be the most incredible.

As they finished eating, Han noted they still had a few minutes left before they landed. "Wanna play?"

She looked at him with suspicion, "How do I know you won't cheat?"

He liked this girl. "You just played with a Wookiee!"

"He taught me how to play," she pointed out.

"Well, then you have my solemn promise that I will not cheat on this particular game of holochess, Your Worship. There, now you believe me?" he asked mockingly.

"Not particularly," she sighed, "But let's play anyway."

He grinned, resetting the game back to starting positions. He enjoyed watching her play the game. She had this intensely focused expression that he supposed came from planning battle strategies back on her base. It was amusing seeing the normally aloof woman so riveted by a rough game.

As she made a surprising good move against him, taking out one of his pieces, he whistled, "Fast learner, aren't you?"

She deflected the compliment, though he swore he almost saw her smile, "It's only simple strategy."

This time he expended more effort on the game, eventually winning it, much to her consternation. "Next time we should play for stakes," he grinned.

"Next time?" she raised her eyebrows, "I thought this was it for you."

He'd forgotten for a moment there that he was taking her back to her rebel base. It had felt like he was playing with one of his gambling pals, albeit a much smaller and distinctly feminine one. His ease with her suddenly soured.

"It is," he replied shortly, "Come on, we're about to land."

"We could use a good pilot like you," she said quietly, making him stop in his tracks.

He almost considered it for a moment, before offering her a rueful smile, "Suicide missions aren't really my thing, sweetheart."

The endearment irritated her as he knew it would, "Are you fond of the Empire then?" her tone turned icy.

"Hell, no. But, I'm not about to throw my life away for a job without profit. I have no intention of dying anytime soon."

"You could have died today."

"I was promised I'd be well-rewarded," he said frankly, although saying it this time made him feel cheap somehow.

She looked at him with resignation, seemingly unsurprised by the admission, "And so you will be."

* * *

 **A/N: So I always think back to Leia telling Han after they destroyed the first Death Star, "I knew there was more to you than money!" Now, in the movie, all we saw was them fighting prior to this moment, so here's my take on how Leia saw another side of Han rather than his "mercenary" one.**

 **Thank you to those of you who left your reviews to Chapter 1 :)**


	3. Chapter 3

" _I knew there was more to you than money!" – Leia Organa, Episode IV: A New Hope_

* * *

It was amazing what being on firm solid ground could do for one's state of being. After having landed on Yavin, Leia had been warmly greeted with much relief by the General and from quickly explaining the events that had ensued since she had been kidnapped by Vader and retrieving the information from the R2-unit, had been whisked away from the incoming crowd of rebels, eager to see the princess who had survived the infamous Sith Lord. She had made sure Luke, Han and Chewbacca were taken well care of too. Being almost jammed in a trash compactor did things to one's self-assurance and Leia needed all the confidence she could get in order to speak to the rebels.

It wasn't that they didn't respect her, they did. But, she found so much importance in ascertaining that they did not follow her just because she was a princess, because she was royalty. She wanted respect for her intelligence and astuteness, her sheer willpower.

Now as they discussed how they could possibly destroy the Death Star with the technical readouts she'd collected in R2D2, as well as Leia's own memory of the battle station, they had found a weakness at last. She could feel a familiar excitement tingling in her veins, the thrill of hope. Glancing at Han, who looked bored by the surroundings, she couldn't help but feel a spark of irritation as well. Had he no compassion or care for anyone besides himself? And yet, she knew that wasn't a completely accurate observation. He definitely cared for his Wookie companion and Luke as well. There was a brotherly air in the way he spoke to the younger man that shook any conviction that he was nothing more than a heartless, money-grabbing bastard.

She was thinking upon this too much, she shook herself lightly and returned her attention to the speaker who had ended his explanation of the strategy with, "May the Force be with you."

Judging by the odds against them, they'd need all the Force they could get.

* * *

Han had been coldly ignored by the Princess as soon as they'd reached her base. Normally he wouldn't let anything like that bother him, particularly not when he was receiving his reward and would be off to repay his debt and live a free man again. However, some soft little part of him was perturbed by the cool indifference of Leia and the disappointed glances Luke sent his way. Not to mention Chewie's suggestions that they could be of help.

"What're you lookin' at?" he told his furry friend gruffly, "I know what I'm doing."

But, he couldn't stop the feeling that told him perhaps he didn't.

They took off as soon as possible, despite Chewbacca's clear reluctance. Han, however, was making sure to appear as cocky and self-satisfied as possible. He didn't want a suicide mission, he told himself. He needed the money and he needed to be around to use it.

"We're gonna be free again," he announced cheerfully, "No death-reward on our heads any longer, Chewie."

His friend grunted in reply.

"Come on, you know what a crazy plan that would be, helping her Highness and her little rebel gang up against that giant ball of death," Han retorted.

"It could work," Chewbacca told him seriously, "And we could help. You know we could. Most of those rebels are too young and inexperienced for something like this. Look at Luke, he's never even been in a real fight on his own."

"He's mature enough to make decisions for himself," Han shrugged, although he felt a pang of worry for his friend.

"And you're mature enough to choose the right thing to do," the Wookie stated wisely.

Han bit back a clever quip on making "right" choices and instead fell silent. Despite his show of false confidence and cheer, there was a low sinking feeling in his chest. He knew if they continued forth and Luke and the Princess were killed, as likely, he would never be able to swallow back the guilt. He may have marauded as a loner, a fellow who cared only for himself and his own well-being, but the truth of the matter was…he did care. Not only for those he'd left behind. Something in the speeches made back at Yavin had made some sort of influence on him. He'd never cared for the Empire, but had remained content to sit back and do nothing. He'd never had any inclination to fight for a noble cause until now. Being on the Death Star, seeing the effects of the torture wreaked on Leia, the brutal death of an old man…they had all made him want to fight back. He was still afraid for his own life, but it was different now. Because there were some things worth fighting for. And if he could fight for his life, he could fight for this too.

"Turn around," he muttered gruffly.

Chewie grunted in surprise, looking at him questioningly.

"C'mon, you big furry oaf, we're gonna go help. And if we die back there, I'll know who to blame."

* * *

Leia dropped her head, closing her eyes, as she was faced with the harsh reality that they were going to lose, Luke was going to die and the rest of them would soon follow suit. And there would be no hope left.

Gone was her earlier confidence, replaced with a dread that threatened to overwhelm her. And then she heard the voice through the intercom.

"Yahoo!"

A cocky, exasperating cry of victory that somehow managed to suddenly fill her with hope.

Two of the Imperial aircrafts exploded and Vader's craft spiraled away into space harmlessly. The Millennium Falcon had shot them with unerring accuracy.

Luke fired and quickly rose out of the area, following the Falcon. A tense moment passed, where everyone in the room held their breaths in a silence that was almost audible in the taut atmosphere.

And then Leia watched as the Death Star exploded into nothingness.

* * *

The thrill of victory was intoxicating, but even more so was the happy grin on Luke's face as he hugged Han, "I knew you'd come back, I just knew it!"

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you get all the credit and take all the reward!" Han joked, pushing him in a brotherly manner.

A small figure hurtled into him unexpectedly, wrapping small arms around him, "Hey, I knew there was more to you than money!"

He grinned back at Leia, adrenaline still rushing through him. She'd been right.

They walked out together, arms over each other's shoulders, laughing and giddy.

Fellow rebels were pouring out drinks, approaching Luke and Han with hearty congratulations and admiration. Han wasn't used to so much praise…at least not for doing something noble…it was oddly gratifying.

After a while, once the room got too stuffy, and the energy had left the trio, now fully exhausted after all the tension and strain of the day's events, they sneaked away to a quieter place, slightly drunk on both alcohol and elation.

"You're gonna stay now, aren't you?" Luke queried anxiously.

"I don't know, kid," some of Han's happiness faded, as he was reminded of the debt to Jabba, "There's a warrant on my head and I have to pay it back…"

"You're with us now," Leia intervened, with bright sparkling eyes. She was drunk, Han realized with a grin. If it hadn't been for her flushed appearance, evidence pointed clearly to her encouragement for him to stay.

"Well, alright then, Princess," he slung an arm around her lazily, "Since you'll miss me so much."

"Miss you?" she sprung away indignantly. Not so drunk then. "I only want you for your good piloting techniques."

"You're not the first woman to have said that to me, sweetheart," he grinned wickedly.

Luke spluttered, looking between the two of them, wide-eyed.

"You're incorrigible," Leia huffed, turning away, "Luke, how did you ever manage to put up with him for so long?"

"I'm not a woman," he pointed out helpfully, "So I didn't exactly have to fend off any unwanted advances."

Han laughed hard at that. Leia glowered at him, "You're an insufferable, arrogant-"

"I know, I know," Han lounged back towards the wall comfortably, "I could say the same about you, Princess."

"I'm not arrogant! Or insufferable!" she turned to Luke for support.

The lovesick little suck-up of course backed her up immediately, "Han is just goading you, don't pay any attention to him."

"Don't pay any attention…? I'll remember that the next time you come to me for help," Han retorted grumpily. Luke gave him an apologetic shrug.

Leia was muttering insults under her breath. Han found it strangely endearing, watching her unwind a bit. "Your Worship, the hair's coming undone," he commented. Leia's rolls were indeed messily twined about both sides of her head, strands loosely falling apart.

Her hands reached up immediately, patting it down with a look of consternation. "Why in the world would you grow your hair out that long?" he inquired, "It can't be practical for your kinda job."

"Believe me, it's not my choice," she grumbled.

"Who's then?"

"My father's. It's Alderaan tradition for the women to grow their hair long. And as a princess and a public figure, no number of rebellions can apparently give cause to cutting my hair short."

"Seems like a lot of hair for one little woman," Han commented.

"I can handle it," she snapped, ironically giving up on her efforts.

Han only shook his head in amusement. She would never back down even if all evidence pointed to the odds of success.

"What now?" Luke asked sleepily, "What do we do now?"

There was a moment of silence, before Leia stated succinctly, "We keep fighting back."

"Are you with us, Han?" Luke asked uncertainly, though with a hope in his eyes that Han couldn't crush.

"Sure, I am. I hear the money's good," he teased. Luke laughed, while Leia rolled her eyes.

They were so different from each other, Han noted. They looked to be about a similar age, physically at least. But Leia had a great deal more maturity and experience than her years should allow, there was a hard resolve and reservation about her. A tough outer shell that could be cracked, he thought to himself.

Continuing to bicker and talk amongst themselves, it wasn't long before Luke curled up on his side, falling asleep on the ground. Leia had unconsciously come to rest her head on Han's shoulder and he didn't have the heart to move her. She'd been through a lot, more than the rest of them had and she needed the rest. But she'd be horrified to learn if she had slept on him all night long. He gently shook her, "Hey, Your Worship, you need to go to bed."

She blinked up at him, drowsily and he sighed, standing up and hauling her with him, putting an arm around her, "Which way to your room?" She pointed, yawning and he helped her up some stairs, before she pushed him away and clambered the rest of them herself.

He returned back to sit next to Luke, too tired himself to find a more comfortable place to rest. He'd slept on harder places before. However, this time, he fell asleep with a certain peace of being, almost...a sense of belonging.

* * *

 **Hope you're liking it so far! Thank you so much to those who have favourited, followed and left their comments :)**


	4. Chapter 4

" _I happen to like nice men." – Leia Organa_

" _I am a nice man." – Han Solo_

 _Episode IV: The Empire Strikes Back_

* * *

Han glanced across at Luke before the doors opened, a trifle nervous. His friend gave him a reassuring smile in return at though he'd guessed his thoughts.

They were to be awarded for their contributions at the Battle of Yavin and yet Han couldn't help but feel as though shooting Darth Vader from the _Falcon_ was a hell of a lot easier than being presented a medal for bravery in front of the rebels. He felt like a sham.

He'd hardly ever done a decent thing in his life. And if he had returned to fight the Empire, it hadn't been solely driven by some noble delusion that he was going to save the galaxy. It had also been for Luke. And Leia, he admitted to himself. He couldn't have let them die even if it had meant risking his own life in the process. But none of that meant he really deserved this medal, did it?

The bugle soon resounded, their cue to begin walking across the path once the doors opened. Striding across with Luke, Chewie following behind, Han felt slightly overwhelmed by all the people standing, awaiting. They _respected_ him. It felt strange, to command respect. Not for being a good smuggler or for talking his way out of things in a shallow kind of admiration, they genuinely held him in esteem.

He determinedly focused his gaze up ahead where Leia stood. Her Worship looked pretty good in women's clothes, he had to admit, and while he was tired of seeing her in so much white like some blessed angel – no angel had such a smart mouth – the colour did suit her. Instead of the cinnamon roll buns she normally had, her hair had been braided and coiled into a tight knot at the top of her head, not a strand out of place, the image of cool perfection.

From the higher steps, she was actually taller than him and she gave him The Royal Gaze as though to remind him of that. A stance that abruptly broke as she gave Luke an open smile. Turning back to Han, he offered her his own cocky grin.

She held the medal forward and he bent his head to receive it, resisting the impulse to glance down her low-cut neckline. He did, however, give her a wink as he looked back up at her, to which she looked rather amused.

The gold plated metal was heavy on his chest, as though reminding him of all the reasons he didn't deserve such a tribute. He tamped down the deprecating thoughts and turned to face the crowd as Luke did, one hand curled into a nervous fist by his blaster as the rebels applauded. He quickly tucked both hands behind his back and despite himself, he smiled. There was something gratifying in the looks of respect these men gave him…the idea that he was a nice man, even if he didn't entirely believe it himself.

* * *

Leia furtively made her way out of the celebratory after-party, seeking some quiet. She had been hounded by Luke for the past half hour, and while she thought he was sweet and found his shy attentions flattering, at the moment she wanted nothing more than a little solitude.

It was odd, really. As a political figure and rebel leader, it meant she was hardly ever alone, constantly surrounded by people without a real chance at privacy or comfort. And yet, the very bustle of people around her had seemed to meld her into a solitary individual by nature. She had few friends, most of whom were older men – the political leaders and generals she spoke with on a daily basis. The rebel soldiers revered her too much to befriend her. But for some strange reason, she had managed to find real connection with a young farm boy, a Wookie…and, she had to admit it, even a smuggler.

She hadn't seen Han very much at the party; she frowned, he was probably off drinking his heart out or debauching some willing female in a secluded corner. Not that it mattered; she had little interest in his pastimes.

Most people were celebrating at this time, so it wasn't difficult to find a place where she could be alone. Sitting under a large tree, far out of sight from the revelers, she heaved a sigh of content, unmindful of the grass-stains her white dress was bound to pick up. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to feel the pain of losing her home, her family, the torture inflicted upon her in the Death Star, though instead of tears, she only felt a heavy weight in her chest…a weight that slightly lifted as she reminded herself of the victory they had won…but it was not enough. The victory felt shallow compared to her personal loss.

"Running away from the party, Your Worshipfullness?"

She surpressed a groan.

Opening her eyes, she looked up at Han Solo with a forbidding frown that had no effect on his irrepressible smirk. She tried for diplomacy, "Would you please give me a little time alone and go back to whatever immoral escapade you were last tangled up in?"

"I believe the last escapade I was tangled up in was _your_ dicey little plan for destroying the Death Star. As for _immoral_ escapades…well, that's why I'm here now, isn't it?" he waggled his eyebrows at her.

She groaned aloud this time. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Did you think I was easy?"

"Yes," she gave him a deadpan look in response to the innuendo.

"Ouch," he settled down easily beside her, "So tell me, Princess, why exactly are you not getting yourself drunk and enjoying the festivities?"

"I could ask you the same question," she glowered, shifting a little away from him.

"You have a hangover, don't you?" he looked amused, "I knew you were drunk last night."

"I was not! I hardly ever drink-"

"Which means you don't handle alcohol well when you do."

"I wasn't drunk. And I don't have a hangover," she muttered defiantly.

He fingered his medal idly, "I'm starting to think the effects of the alcohol still haven't left your system if you decided to give me this."

She glanced up in pure surprise at the impassive comment. "Are you mocking the idea of a reward for bravery?" she asked sardonically, "I thought you liked rewards."

"I do. When I deserve them," he rested his arms over his knees in a curiously vulnerable pose. "Don't get me wrong, I definitely wanted some sort of monetary refund for risking my life. But, a medal for bravery? I'm not brave, Princess, I've been goddamned selfish since the unhappy day I crawled out of my mother's womb. One good act doesn't make me a nice man."

She felt stunned. She wouldn't have expected such an outburst from him and yet, she understood what he meant. "You're right," she said carefully, "One good act doesn't make you a nice man. But, it's not about the act, it's about the intent, isn't it? You came back to fight when you could have left with your money. I'm not saying you've suddenly redeemed yourself," she said hastily, giving him a frown, "You're still a scoundrel." He grinned at that and she continued, "But whether you like it or not, you deserved the medal for what you did. You helped destroy the Death Star and you helped fight the Empire. Without your help we'd most likely be dead. So, this is our way of thanks."

Han looked contemplative for a few minutes, uncharacteristically solemn. Then he nodded his head slightly, "Okay."

"Is that why you came to find me?" she asked curiously, "To find out why you got the medal?"

"No, I didn't come to find you, I was here already," he stated, "What's – her – name – Talia? No…Tanya…"

"Tabitha?"

"Yeah, she was hunting me like a Sarlacc that hadn't seen living food in ten years."

Leia stifled an unladylike snort at the idea of Tabitha Wren being compared to a repulsive Sarlacc. "She's very beautiful."

"She can't stop talking enough about herself to allow me to notice that on my own," Han retorted sourly.

"I never would've taken you for a man who ran away from attractive women."

"I do when they're terrors from Carkoon."

They sat in companionable silence before Han asked again, "Why _are_ you here?"

"I did say I wanted to be alone."

"And I said I wanted an immoral escapade," he countered smugly, "Looks like we're both gonna be disappointed tonight, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," she rubbed her fingers into her forehead wearily, "You should've had your way with Tabitha."

" _My_ way? She was regretfully more interested in _her_ way."

"You'd be reaching the same destination."

"Oh no, we wouldn't be," he chuckled, "You're avoiding my question, Princess."

"I lost my home," she expelled a sharp breath, "There. Will you leave now?"

He didn't move, but only surveyed her intently. There was neither pity nor derision in his gaze, rather simple understanding.

And he leaned back against the tree, not saying anything. Strangely enough, his presence didn't irk her at the present moment. It was comfortable, sitting with him like this.

"I wasn't really avoiding Talia – or – whatever – her name –"

"Tabitha."

"Yeah. I came out here to think. I guess I'll stay here for a while, help fight…but eventually I'm gonna need to leave to repay my debt."

"You're not the type to settle down in one place for too long. You'll find your own path," she stated quietly.

"Yeah. I just don't know which path to choose right now," he replied.

"Luke would miss you a great deal," she said, not entirely willing to see the last of him either, "You might as well stay awhile. To help."

"I'll think about it," he shifted uncomfortably.

"You told him last night you'd stay," she pointed out.

"I know. I just don't know if I can."

"Well, what about what you want?" she asked.

He hesitated, then, "I want to stay."

She understood his uncertainty. He'd been a roamer his entire life, he'd made his living through smuggling illegal goods, it was difficult to change. Yet, he wasn't exactly the same man he was. Something had shifted; from a no-good smuggler, he'd suddenly become a war-hero, at least to the other rebels around. And while he didn't believe in the title, it did somehow put some responsibility on his shoulders. Whether he would carry that responsibility for the rest of his life remained ambiguous for the time being.

"Sometimes it helps to talk it out," she said, without thinking.

"Do you want to?" he prodded gently.

She looked up in surprise. He was probably the last person in the world she'd ever expected to speak with on a personal level, she hardly knew the man. In fact, she rarely spoke to anyone on a personal level, she realized ruefully.

"I've been to Alderaan before," Han said, leaning back, "It was a beautiful place. Huge mountains and lots of water. It was peaceful."

"I loved it," she spoke, surprising both of them, "It was my home, but more than that, it was a place where I felt safe and happy. I remember the people, the cities…the Cloudshape Falls…the Isatabith rain forest…"

"The Falls were stunning," he agreed.

"I didn't often agree with some of the rules imposed upon us, though," she smiled wistfully, "It was peaceful, that's true, but I think our lack of aggression also might have led to our downfall in the end. Weapons were banned…what?" Han had been giving her an odd look.

"Lack of aggression?" he repeated, looking skeptical, "You?"

She scowled, though she knew he had a point, "I disagreed with some of the more…conservative methods such as those."

"I can imagine. You're faster with a blaster than a bounty hunter."

She shrugged off the compliment, though she was pleased. "How did you ever manage to wind up on a peaceful planet, then?" she inquired.

He looked sheepish, "Trade."

"Ah…I'm assuming you didn't stay too long, then?"

"I was there for maybe a day," he admitted, "Ran into a bit of trouble, when negotiations turned ugly."

"On Alderaan?"

"You'd be surprised. Some of your peace-loving citizens pack a killer right-hook."

She almost smiled, before a pang of loss hit her, "And now they're gone. I'm one of the last living inhabitants left."

He was silent for a moment, as though searching for the right words to say. "They did it to hurt you, Princess. Not for any reason but just to show you that they could, to show you who's boss. And you got back at them. You destroyed the Death Star and now you'll keep on fighting till they're dead and gone. Tarkin didn't reckon that when he destroyed your home, that he'd just made you stronger. Because you're a fighter."

She looked up at him, stunned. His blunt words had more of an effect on her than any sympathetic embraces or statements of condolence could. He was right. She had more drive than ever now. She wouldn't stop fighting, not until the Empire's rule had been crushed.

She remembered a year prior when she had been unsure of herself, of her command, of her role. She hadn't been completely certain if she would be a strong leader in either the Senate or the Alliance. She had often felt world-weary, sometimes angry, sometimes afraid. And occasionally she had even considered giving up. There was none of that insecurity left now.

A few minutes of silence passed before he rose up and said, "I think I'll get back to the party…check on Luke…you coming?"

She hesitated. Part of her wanted to be alone, to avoid social interaction. Another part of her wanted companionship, wanted the chance to, for once, be human. Not a political figure, not a rebel leader…just Leia. And she realized that as much as the man could annoy her at times, he was perhaps the only person who really treated her as though she was normal. She craved normalcy.

He extended a hand and she took it to haul herself up from the ground, before they strode back to the festivities.

"Do me a favour, Princess."

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Signal to tell me when the Sarlacc approaches," he said with such a serious expression she couldn't help but smile.

"Will do, Captain."

They found Luke with Chewbacca and a few other pilots, talking and laughing uproariously together. "Where've you been all this time?" Luke demanded of Han.

"Checking up on the ship," he said easily, "She needed some tending to."

* * *

 **Thought I'd address Leia's grief over losing her home planet, as well as Han ruminating over his choice of whether to stay or not. I mean, it definitely couldn't have been easy for him to suddenly decide to fight alongside the rebels when he'd been a smuggler for so long. And, of course, I really wanted to show Han and Leia's relationship progressing to friendship. Thank you to those who have favourited, followed and reviewed! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

_"Look, I ain't in this for your revolution, and I'm not in it for you, Princess." – Han Solo, Episode IV: A New Hope_

* * *

" _Are you accepting the commission, or are you not?_ "

The other rebels around them were looking at the Princess in surprise, as though they'd never seen her in such a state before.

Han had been tiptoeing around the whole notion of staying on Yavin to help. The first few days he had claimed he was fixing up the _Falcon_ , he needed the time, space and equipment. It was true, he reasoned. Though perhaps he could have been more efficient instead of heading off to heckle Her Highness every once in a while for amusement.

Luke had asked him to help with a scouting assignment and so Han had reluctantly agreed. One assignment had let to multiple odd jobs such as these until the General had gotten fed up by what he called "a precious waste of resources" – meaning Han. He had evaded the man's requests until today…except the General – slippery little fellow that he was – had passed on the responsibility of persuading Han to enlist to the Princess' dainty yet capable shoulders.

She wouldn't take any of his shifty replies for an answer. Instead, she only became more determined and more riled up as time continued. He supposed the rest of the rebels were so respectful and eager to please around her that she'd never have to exhibit any side of her other than her calm, stoic one. Today was a different story.

He took a different tactic, drawling, "What's in it for me, Princess?"

She rolled her eyes, "Obviously you're going to be well paid within reasonable limits."

"Somehow, I don't really like the sound of that."

"It's up to you, Han," she shrugged, "Take it, or leave it. But if you don't take it, you'll be leaving within the week because everyone who lives here, _works_. We all have our jobs to carry out. We don't hold up with slackers or inefficiency here."

Ouch. She could be as cold as a dead fish when she wanted to be. But direct and to the point, which was refreshing in his line of business.

"You need me," he declared with his usual touch of arrogance, "You need me for this commission, why else would you ask me?"

"We have plenty of other-" she began haughtily, but he interrupted.

"Who aren't as experienced or good a pilot as me. You need me for this commission."

"I don't _need_ you," she pursed her lips delicately, "Our pilots are perfectly qualified for their jobs. I'm merely offering you a position."

"What if I don't want it?" he challenged, enjoying the flush that rose up in her cheeks. She was probably unused to such insubordinate attitude from an inferior.

"As I mentioned," she stated through gritted teeth, "That is entirely up to you. Whether you wish to go back to your previous…occupation," she phrased the word with disdain, "or stay to fight. But you are going to decide _now_."

Something in him wanted to keep pushing her, she was far too comfortable with her sense of authority, but then he caught a glance of Luke making his way over with a hopeful smile on his face. What the hell. He'd do it.

"I'll take it," he answered, amused at the look of surprise on Leia's face, "Just this one."

She quickly recovered, "Very good. I'll be assigning you along with Skywalker, Giles, Khan and Joyce."

"Who's leading?"

"I am."

* * *

Leia had quite enjoyed Han's expression when she had told him she would be leading the raid.

As soon as the Death Star had been destroyed, she had realized they would need to evacuate immediately, seeing as the Empire was fully aware of their location. After sending multiple scouts, they had finally narrowed down the planets to a potential three. Hoth seemed the most adequate, despite the harsh cold climate and possible predators. A group of rebels had already begun work on constructing a suitable outpost, although they had sent word that progress would be slower than expected due to the extreme temperature drop by nightfall. However, one of the rebels had also let slip that Han had been arriving from time to time with Luke. In fact, he had also been a part of the scouting expeditions.

In all their previous encounters, he had mentioned none of this. Although, now that she recalled, he had seemed a little tired, even when badgering her around. He took great delight in bumping into her "accidentally" around the base, making requests for spare parts for the _Falcon,_ or to mock one of the squadrons she had sent out. Despite his admission that day of the ceremony, that he would like to stay, he seemed to be unable to decide what it was that he truly wanted. It looked as though he had decided, she thought, half-amused. He just didn't want to concede to it.

Tomorrow's raid was on one of the Empire's outposts. They wanted to take advantage of their enemy's weakness as much as possible and this particular raid would remove one of their biggest supply stations, as long as it was successful.

Han followed her as she strode out of the office, "How many other squadrons are you sending out?"

"The General decided we can only afford to send two at the present moment," she replied.

"You think that'll be enough?" Han asked doubtfully.

"Yes. Now, as to the matter of your ship…"

"What about her?" Han looked shifty.

"She will be very useful in the coming evacuations-"

"I agreed to one commission, not two, Princess."

She ignored him, continuing, "However, for tomorrow's raid, you will be flying one of the fighters."

"I don't think so."

"She is far too conspicuous for a fight. We want to take them by surprise, not announce our arrival like a red beacon. If you want to argue further against this, you can take it up with the General."

"Your Highness, I believe you're forgetting something," Han drawled smugly.

"What?" she demanded impatiently.

"The _Falcon_ , as an illustrious carrier of smuggled goods, will aid our cause perfectly," he spoke in the same tone she had used when addressing him earlier.

She thought about it. He did have a good point, she conceded reluctantly. "So are you saying you'll arrive first and we'll have the squadrons arrive after?"

"That's about right. I'll land, sweet-talk 'em into allowing them to bring out their goods, and then tell you when to get down."

"They'll have clones guarding the shipments."

"Nothing I haven't handled before."

She sighed, "Alright, I'll give everyone a debriefing at five."

"You see, I'm not just a possessor of extreme good looks. I'm also quite intelligent."

"When you want to be."

"And brave."

"Don't push it."

He coughed, looking at her innocently, "The Death Star?"

"Are you going to bring that up every time I question your morals?" she demanded exasperatedly.

He grinned, "Who said I had any?"

"I'm surprised you aren't returning back to your smuggling affairs."

"I just might. This is only one commission, Princess, remember, I never said I'd be staying for good."

"No, I never expected you would," she replied honestly, "However," she stopped and turned to face him, "there is something I require of you tomorrow."

"Yes, Your Worshipfullness?" He knew she hated the nicknames he bestowed upon her.

"Your respect and compliance. I can't have any of the soldiers questioning my authority, not even you. You can make suggestions, of course, but ultimately I am leading the squadrons tomorrow and there is an order, a plan. Improvise only if absolutely necessary and if I tell you to get out, we are getting out. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Your Highness," he bowed mockingly.

"I know how much you like surprises, but I want tomorrow to go smoothly," she warned.

He looked at her in a show of injured dignity, "Hey, it's me."

It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

* * *

Luke found Han in the docking bay, "You ready?"

Han lifted his head to reply, banging his head against a low shaft of his ship. Luke winced at the sharp thud, "That had to hurt."

"I've been told I have a hard head," Han said dryly.

Luke grinned, "I can't argue with that. Leia said to tell you she'll be flying with you in the _Falcon_ , so to have it ready soon."

"When she said she'd be leading…somehow I thought it would be through an intercom from the base," Han raised an eyebrow, "And since when have you been on a first-name basis with Her Royal Highness?"

Luke blushed, ignoring the second question, "She likes being in the thick of it all."

"I think it's more likely that she doesn't trust me to keep my head in a tense situation."

"Well you do tend to shoot before you think," his friend pointed out apologetically.

"What I can't figure out…" Han said, his voice muffled from beneath the bottom of the _Falcon_ , where he was conducting repairs, "is why a Princess is willing to get her hands dirty when she's clearly got plenty of other people to do it for her."

"Maybe, it's because the _Princess_ is qualified as an agent of the Alliance to get the job done," came Leia's irritated voice as she headed towards them.

Han made sure to ease himself out from under the ship carefully this time. He surveyed her appearance approvingly. Gone was the impractical flowing white dress. Instead she wore a dark green light jacket over tight trousers, a blaster strapped to her waist and thick, sturdy boots over her small feet.

"Your hair looks different," he commented upon the absence of her usual two thick rolls. Her dark brown hair was now braided around her head in a sort of crown.

"Are you finished?" she eyed him and his toolbox disparagingly, "We are leaving in ten minutes."

"Almost," he headed back under, "Just making sure she'll start up right or we won't be leaving at all."

Leia huffed with impatience. Luke turned to her ruefully, "She was damaged pretty badly in the last visit to Hoth. Some wild creature attacked it."

"And your friend decided to neglect to mention this until now?" she said incredulously.

"She'll be fine, she'll be fine, don't get your knickers in a twist," Han called out cheerfully.

Luke left hurriedly to his starfighter as to avoid the aftermath of that particular comment. At this point, all the rebels knew well enough to not come in between the Princess and the smuggler-turned-rebel in one of their daily squabbles. And no one knew better than he did.

* * *

Han landed the ship carefully on the runway, watching warily as a man in a hooded cloak and two clones approached. He had spoken to a clone already through the intercom, keeping his voice relaxed and steady as he announced he had arrived to pick up a new shipment.

"You go and talk to them," Leia directed quietly, "If they refuse to leave to bring out the goods, then stall as much as possible."

"And if they realize I'm bluffing?"

"You can handle it," Leia said, with a touch of irony, "Besides, Chewie and I have your back, should they shoot to kill."

"How reassuring," he muttered, heading out.

He plastered on a mask of impassivity as he sauntered out of the ship, keeping his poise relaxed, meeting the hooded man's face directly, "I'm here for the usual. And don't keep me waiting, it's a tight schedule and I need the stuff now."

The man with the hooded cloak cocked his head, surveying him keenly, "You don't look like one of our usual customers."

"You think the Empire has the time to send out a diplomat?" Han mocked him, though his heart was racing, "Especially after their recent loss, they can't afford to be choosy."

"No, I suppose they can't," the man said slowly, "However, I find it rather odd that after we sent out our last shipment so recently, they've sent yet another man for the job."

"The last one got attacked," Han replied breezily, "Taken down by some Rebel cruisers. They've gotten pretty bold after they knocked out the _Death Star_."

"I am still expecting payment, I hope you realize. We don't recompense for matters which are out of our control."

Han sighed as though the news was expected yet irksome, "I had a feeling you'd say that." He grabbed the money bag at his waist and jingled it encouragingly.

"Very well," the man gestured to the clones who headed off to a round building at the end of the runway. He turned back to Han, holding out a gloved hand, "The payment?"

"Get them babies over here first and then we'll talk money matters," Han replied. Why the hell weren't the starfighters over here yet?

"You're an interesting character for the Empire to send," the man scrutinized him coldly, "I understand they are currently short on…adequate resources…but surely they had better?"

"I am the best," Han drawled.

"Perhaps. But surely a man with more discretion would be wiser. The last man who arrived, you see, he's not what you might call a talkative fellow."

"He's dead," Han quipped, "So, no, I wouldn't consider him talkative at all at the moment."

"Funny you should say that. Because, you see, contrary to your belief, he was not taken out by a rebel cruiser. In fact, he has not yet left this planet, as he arrived only an hour prior to your appearance." The man lifted his hood casually to reveal a tattooed skull, pulling out a blaster with a sort of feline elegance, "Who are you and who are you working for?"

An explosion at the crates further down, sent Han reflexively flattening himself to the ground his ears ringing. Taking advantage of the man's temporary distraction, he pulled out his blaster and shot. The man moved before he could hit him, however fired at something behind Han. Chewbacca's roar drove him to lucidity and he quickly moved back to the Falcon, firing at the man and the clones behind him, deflecting their fire. Another explosion had him stumbling back, however it was accompanied by shots from circling starcruisers.

Leia had stepped out as well, taking out one of the clones with precision. The man in the hooded cloak had disappeared.

"Back to the _Falcon_!" he yelled at her, while shooting at a clone, moving closer towards the ship. He needed to find the bald man quick if he didn't want the Empire on his heels as well. Jabba was bad enough. The man had seen his face at a close distance and would remember it.

"Chewie can't start it up! Courtesy of your "repairs"!" she shouted angrily.

He cursed, before a flash of movement caught his eye, "Behind you!"

Leia ducked, spinning to fire and Han heard her curse in pain. "You alright?" he yelled, amidst another explosion.

She didn't reply and he turned to his horror, to see a sputtering starcruiser spiral unsteadily towards her. He ran, pulling her out, losing balance at the impact of the starcruiser hitting the ground. He groaned, his ears ringing and smoke filling his vision. An elbow knocked into his abdomen and he grabbed Leia's arm, "Hey, Your Worship, watch it!"

She was sprawled atop of him, gasping for breath, yet clearly keen to get up. "Are you alright?" he demanded, looking around to make sure no more clones were approaching, yet uncomfortably aware of her squirming.

"I'm fine," she muttered, "Let's get back to the ship."

"You know, it's usually much more of a pleasurable experience to have a woman on top," he gingerly shifted her off, at the same moment realizing his blaster was gone, "but in the light of present circumstances-"

Leia shot at something behind them, "Get in the damn ship, flyboy!"

He pulled at her arm, noting her limp and grimace of pain, helping her along the ramp, as she fired behind them. "Chewie, get us in the air!"

Thankfully, the ship started up. Han scanned the parameters for any sign of the cloaked figure, until a compact black cruiser headed up in the air from a short distance away from the runway.

"Gotcha," he muttered, but before he could fire, the ship hit lightspeed and shot into the distance.

"We have to follow it," Chewie growled, "That man can recognize your face."

Han nodded, frowning, before he realized Leia was missing. He found the Princess collapsed unconscious on the floor where he'd left her. He bent down, shaking her gently, "Hey, Princess, wake up." She groaned a little. He checked her efficiently for any injuries but aside from where the blaster shot had grazed her leg, she seemed fine.

Luke's voice buzzed through the intercom, "Han, we're almost done here. Are you heading out?"

"Yeah, we're good," he replied.

Chewie called back, "Han, are we-"

"No, we're heading back to the base," he said shortly. Leia could be a Royal Pain in the Behind at the best of times, but he did know she wouldn't have collapsed on the floor of his ship if it wasn't serious. "The Princess is injured."


	6. Chapter 6

"She doesn't look too good."

"Neither would you, kid, if you were the one who got shot at."

"I don't get it, though. She's so tough. Even after she was tortured by Vader…"

Leia listened to Luke and Han converse in quiet, concerned tones. She knew she was in the sick bay, she recognized the sharp scent of disinfectant, the coarse linen bedsheets and the sound of hushed voices hovering around an invalid. Nothing would induce her to open her eyes, however. She wanted to be alone.

Chewbacca growled something indiscernible.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Han said gruffly.

"What'd he say?" asked Luke with curiosity.

"Chewie's just a little worried about the man that got away. The one who pulled the blaster on me."

"The General said by the descriptions you gave of his appearance, he's a bounty hunter. Lal Inquor. Works a lot with the Empire."

"Never met him before in my life. And that's saying a lot. I've met shadier looking characters."

A pause, then Luke said, "You were going to leave, weren't you? To follow him?"

"Yeah. Now that the Empire knows I've been working with you, it's gonna be a lot harder to stay low."

"You didn't, though. I mean, you didn't leave."

"Her Worship made it pretty clear that I was to follow orders and stick to the plan."

Luke made a skeptical sound. "She was hurt and you-"

"Don't make me out to be some goddamned hero," Han warned, "I'm not. The sooner I'm outta this place, the better."

"That's what you say every time," Luke mumbled.

Someone entered the room, one of the rebels, requesting for Luke to see the General immediately. "You're a good friend, Han, even if you won't admit it," Luke told the smuggler on his way out.

Han merely grunted in response.

There was a moment of silence before Chewbacca said something about fixing up the _Falcon_ and Han replied, "Yeah, I'll be there. I just wanna check up with the nurse about something…"

The sound of the doors sliding was all Leia heard, before a deep silence settled in the room.

"You're a pretty good actress, Princess, but I can tell when a person's faking unconsciousness. Believe me, I've been in quite a few of those situations myself."

Leia suppressed a groan and blinked up at him balefully.

"How ya feeling?"

"I probably feel the way I look."

"Like hell," he agreed succinctly.

She sighed, "What happened after I passed out?"

Han settled on the edge of the bed comfortably, "Well, we got done what we went there to do. The place is rubble. I got the _Falcon_ back to Yavin and said you were unconscious and needed to get to the sickbay. You've been out for a day, half-conscious, tossing and turning. Your wound isn't deep, the shot just grazed you, so the medics aren't sure why you've been in a fit. And the General's in a mood."

"He didn't want me to go," Leia said quietly, "Wanted me to stay back on the base for at least a month."

"So, why didn't you?" Han inquired.

"I've had enough of enclosed spaces." She recalled the dank cold of her tiny cell on the _Death Star_.

Han nodded, running a hand through his unkempt locks, "I've never been keen on them myself…Luke's been in a right state, worried about you."

"I'm fine," she sat up in the bed, looking away from him. The man had an unnervingly perceptive gaze.

"You're still sick, aren't you? From the torture."

She froze.

Han cleared his throat awkwardly, "Seems like the only logical explanation…one of the nurses mentioned something about it too."

There was a strong pause before she nodded slightly, "Not sick, exactly. Vader's torture mechanisms are…subtle. Nothing to disfigure prominently. Technically, I am fully recovered."

"The blaster shot put you in a sort of shock," he inferred.

"Something like that, I guess," she shrugged, wriggling out of the covers. She had no wish to discuss the details of her torture with anyone, much less him. She found herself wearing a thin gown provided by the sickbay. Moving her leg experimentally, she grimaced. It didn't hurt much, but enough to sting.

"I wouldn't get up and start walking if I were you," Han warned, as she put a foot down, "Malia'll have a fit."

"Already on a first-name basis with the nurses?" she remarked, setting her injured leg down gingerly.

"I make it my business to know every woman's name, sweetheart."

"Clearly excepting mine," she rolled her eyes.

"Jealous?" he smirked.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, laser brain," she wobbled a little as she stood.

"You're gonna fall if you take a step," Han cautioned, watching her.

"I don't need _you_ to lecture me on safety," she snapped, taking an unsteady step forward. And another. Her knees buckled. A strong arm gripped her waist.

"That's five times I've rescued you now, Princess," Han grinned at her, guiding her back to sit.

"Five?" She normally resented assistance of any kind, but she allowed him to help.

"I've rescued you from the Death Star, I came back to help destroy it before you were, I saved you yesterday from the crashing starfighter, and again when you were unconscious in my ship. And now, I rescued you from falling at my feet, as appealing as the idea sounds," he chuckled.

She didn't like the idea of being rescued, reluctantly grateful as she was for his help. Luke's words came back to her as she eyed him with some respect, "You did get me back to Yavin instead of going after the bounty hunter. Why?"

Han looked shifty. "I wasn't about to let an injured-"

She rolled her eyes, "Spare me the theatrics, Solo. You and I both know you didn't want to stick around long enough for the Empire to realize you were siding with the Alliance. And now you're at risk. What are you going to do now?"

He sighed, meditatively picking on the sleeve of his jacket before replying, "I guess I'm staying. Just for a while longer, at least. I can't go right back into my old business now, can I? And staying here gives me a lot more protection than being out in the open."

She was surprisingly rather glad at his acceptance of the situation. "Thank you." As much as the man annoyed her, she recognized that he held some fondness for her, enough to risk his own safety. She realized she had similarly come to appreciate his presence on the base as well, just as much as Luke's.

"Should I tell Luke you're alive and yapping like normal?" he queried.

She hesitated, "You can tell him once he's finished with his meeting with the General. I want some privacy first. And out of this," she gestured at the gown.

"Dolling yourself up for the kid, I get it," he winked, rising up from his perch on the edge of the bed.

"Hardly," she retorted, "I'm not about to let any of the soldiers see one of their commanding officers in this getup."

"You let me," he pointed out, before leaving.

"And since when have you ever treated me like a commanding officer?" she sighed.

He flashed her a quick grin as he left.

* * *

Han found Chewie busily working at the _Falcon_. "Hey, ya need any help with that?"

His friend produced a noncommittal grunt in response.

"You're still mad at me, aren't you?" Han sighed, "Hey, you were the one who told me we had to come back to help!"

"You're taking unnecessary risks," Chewbacca growled, "You didn't need to take the commission, especially when you knew it would involve revealing your face."

Han shrugged, "I've been in worse situations."

"That's not the point!" Chewbacca retorted heatedly, "You know the Empire's going to be after you now, and they're a far more dangerous foe than some half-wit smuggler. We should've chased after that bounty hunter…" he went back to working at the ship.

"The Princess was hurt," Han said awkwardly.

"She's fine," Chewbacca replied, "We could've taken out that ship in less than ten minutes, you know we could have. I think you just want an excuse to stay."

"That's ridiculous!" Han spluttered, "This isn't my kinda work, you know that-"

"Then give me an honest answer of what happened yesterday."

Han fell silent. He knew he couldn't lie to Chewie; his friend knew him all too well for that. "I don't know. I should leave, I know I should, get that money to Jabba and go back to normal…but, I don't know."

Chewbacca sighed, knowing that was all he'd get out of him for the present, "Alright. Are we staying then?"

"For the now."

"You're fond of them. Luke and the Princess."

"Yeah, the kid's kinda grown on me. Her Worship's more like a constant thorn in my side-"

"Is that why you stayed behind when Luke and I left the sickbay?" Chewbacca smirked.

Han frowned, "Alright, alright, so I don't quite mind her either."

Chewbacca opened his furry mouth to say more, but a voice interrupted, "Han!"

"Yeah, kid?" he turned to face Luke who was hurrying towards him.

"Is Leia okay?"

"She's doing great, she wants to see you, actually," Han said casually.

"She's awake?" Luke's face lit up, "And she wants to see me?"

"'Course she does, kid, go on, go see her. She's still at sickbay."

Luke jogged off, a huge grin plastered to his boyish face. Han chuckled, watching him leave, "Someone's got quite the crush."

Chewie grunted something indiscernible.

"What was that?" Han inquired.

"I said, "That makes two of you"."

Han swivelled around so quickly, he strained his neck in the process. "I don't have a crush on the Princess. I barely even like her."

"You make it your business to bother her everyday."

"Yeah, because I'm _bored_. And it's fun seeing her all wound up. She's too used to all the respect and loyalty. Everyone puts her up like she's on some kinda pedestal. She's only a human, after all, she's a woman."

"Exactly what I'm saying. She's a woman."

"I thought you liked her," Han raised a brow.

"Oh, I do. In fact, I think she's too smart to get her heart broken by you. All I'm saying is that maybe-"

"No maybes!" Han snapped irritably, "There's nothing. She's a gorgeous woman, I'll admit it, but she's my superior officer for one, and an uptight Princess for another. She barely even comes up to my chest and she's got about as much romance in her as a…as a…" for once, he was at a loss for words. He settled for shooting his friend a scornful glare. " _Maybe…_ " he muttered to himself, striding off, "Me have a crush on the Princess…"

The thought was preposterous.


	7. Chapter 7

" _What are you afraid of?"_ – Han Solo, Episode V

Leia stared at her reflection in the mirror in her room.

She wore nothing but a thin white camisole and briefs, her hair let loose in a tangled brown mass down her back. It was strangely liberating to simply stand there, wearing little, without pretense of poise or elegance. Just Leia.

She looked wan, she observed critically. Her skin was papery almost, appearing as though it would disintegrate at the slightest touch, bloodless and pale. And heavy dark smudges framed her eyes. The little scrap of clothing she was wearing hung off of her bony frame; it did not fail to conceal her bruises and scars either. Battle scars, she thought grimly. Like a warrior in battle.

It was odd. Since her sole breakdown in the _Falcon_ on her way to Yavin, she had not wept. One might assume after having lost her family, her friends, _everything_ , when Tarkin had obliterated her planet from the galaxy, that she might have shattered into pieces. She might have lost her fortitude, her drive, her soul.

None of that happened, of course. Although the loss of her soul could be considered debatable.

It was as though she felt nothing…nothing but a bright, blinding anger…a sort of willpower to get her job done. She wasn't grieving exactly, nor was she happy. She was simply…angry. A deep-rooted fury that had only served to make her more efficient, more capable than ever before.

Then she had fallen unconscious on the raid. That had been rather embarrassing. After all her protestations to General Dodonna that she was perfectly sound – both physically and mentally – to lead the raid, it had only taken a mere graze of a blaster shot to knock her out for a day. She had refused to speak of it to anyone, had refused to mention the haunting dreams that plagued her while drifting in and out of lucidity. It had all seemed so real. It was as though she had been transported back to her cell on the Death Star, back to the interminable torture sessions with the Sith Lord, back to the horror of her home planet being destroyed before her very eyes…

She hardly responded to gestures of friendship or compassion. She had one goal and one goal only: to utterly eradicate the Empire.

* * *

Han landed the _Falcon_ in the hangar on Echo Base. The place was cold, desolate. It held little beauty or comfort, although it certainly served its purpose, he contemplated. Certainly the Empire would hardly guess the Alliance's new rebel base would be in some godforsaken planet of icy death.

Pulling his fur-lined hood over his head, he motioned to Chewie, "What're you waiting for?"

"I'm staying here," his friend insisted.

"Don't be a baby," Han rolled his eyes, "There's not gonna be a wampa waiting to attack you from _inside_ the base. C'mon."

Chewie sighed in resignation and followed him warily. Han strode down the corridors. They'd done a fine job of it so far, he observed approvingly. Nothing collapsing on anyone's heads, they'd even found an adequate temperature setting, just enough to prevent them from freezing to death. It wasn't the homiest of places, but it'd do.

"Hey, Han!" Luke waved him over by the next pathway.

"This place isn't looking half-bad, kid," he joined him.

"Yeah, we should be ready to evacuate in a day or so," Luke responded, "The sickbay's ready – we've just installed the bacta tank – and we've already stored supplies and equipment. We've domesticated the tauntauns too, they're helpful to get around, the speeders aren't half as good in this kinda weather. And the command centre's good to go."

"Had any more trouble with the wampas getting in?" Han mentioned casually, much to Chewie's ill-concealed horror.

"Nah, they've been pretty good lately," Luke replied, his voice trailing off slightly. He shot Han a shifty glance, "Is Leia alright?"

"The Princess? Haven't seen her much," Han lied easily. He had in fact, seen her a great deal, around the base, however she had been very keen to avoid him and he had not taken any especial pains to get in her way. Particularly after Chewie's comment about him having a "crush" on said Princess.

"It's interesting…the way people here talk about her," Luke began conversationally.

"What d'ya mean?" Han ducked around a low-hanging wire.

"Well, they all respect her and think she's a great leader. But they all say she's as cold as a glacier and as unapproachable as a bantha."

"Well, I can't argue with that," Han chuckled.

"See, that's the thing. Did you know she's the same age as me?"

Han stopped abruptly, causing Luke to bump into him from behind, "What?"

"Yeah. I thought she'd be older, she just seems so…"

"World-weary," Han supplied thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that's it. But, I guess she's been through a lot more than I have. I've lived on a farm my entire life and she's a princess," Luke continued glumly.

Han was slightly amused. So this was what all this was about? "She likes you."

"You think so?" Luke brightened.

"Sure, she does. I think I've only ever seen her smile when she's around you," he added helpfully.

"She hasn't smiled since…" Luke trailed off again. Han realized he was right. Her Royal Highness had been even more closed-off since the raid. He suddenly realized how long it had been since he'd had a good argument with her.

"She didn't lose just her home, you know," Luke mentioned seriously, "She lost her parents too."

"I heard she was adopted, though," Han responded curiously. He hadn't really thought of Leia's family. He had never been shown any sort of affection by his own family when he'd had them…somehow, he'd associated the parents of a princess as a stuffy, aloof sort of pair.

"But they treated her like a real daughter."

Han fell uncharacteristically quiet. He'd hardly know what it was like to have people who cared for him. There were sadly few in his life whom he could count as ever having shown him true affection. He supposed he could count Chewie as one, even Luke. He would be pretty torn if something had happened to them, he mused, he'd be in grief.

Was Leia in grief? She certainly didn't show it. But then, she wasn't exactly prone to emotional outbursts either, she wasn't a normal woman. Or at least not a normal woman of his experience.

"I was brought up by my uncle and aunt," Luke said quietly, "They were killed by the Empire too." After a moment, he turned to Han curiously, "You've never mentioned your-"

"I had no one," Han replied shortly. And his young friend fell silent.

* * *

Leia shivered, even in her padded white snowsuit. She wasn't used to the harsh climate on Hoth, no matter how many times she had ventured to the planet to check up on the base's progress. The bustle of people filling the corridors made it slightly difficult for her to find her way past them, however she made it to the command centre at last to inform the General that the evacuation had been undergone without difficulty.

"Good, good," he replied absently, "And you?"

"Me?" she looked up at him inquiringly.

"Are you alright?"

A flush of embarrassment tinged her cheeks; she certainly didn't want to be treated as though she was some delicate invalid. She gave him a curt nod before heading out again. She hated all the pitying glances and kind words sent her way. It didn't matter that all of it was well-intentioned…she didn't want any more reminders of what she had lost and she was perfectly willing and able to function without dwelling on it.

"Well, Your Worshipfullness, how are you liking your new home?"

Leia sighed at the familiar sound of the approaching voice. Han fell into step with her. At least he didn't treat her as though she possessed all the fragility of a porcelain doll.

"It's hardly a home, Captain. It's been designed so that, if needed, we can evacuate from it quickly. And considering how it was constructed in a matter of weeks, it's been structured to provide only the necessities."

"Can't argue with you there," he agreed easily, "But as long as it's not about to collapse around our heads, it's fine by me."

"I heard about the wampa attack. Has Sykes recovered?"

"He'll be fine in a couple days, just with a bit of a limp."

The sliding doors parted to reveal the rebels' barracks. Closely cloistered, one bunk on top of the other in rows, they weren't exactly comfortable, but they would have to do. She turned to Han questioningly, "You'll be-"

"On the _Falcon_ ," he replied swiftly, "It's a lot more spacious in there than here, believe me."

She nodded; she'd expected as much. "Chewbacca as well?"

"Yep. How 'bout you, Princess? Care to join?" he grinned.

"Hardly. I have a little cabin of my own," she informed him with a slight roll of her eyes, "The General seemed to think it was necessary."

"You're royalty. 'Course it is. Can't expect you to be abiding with us common folk, can we?" he drawled lazily.

"Captain, I spent weeks aboard a tiny, dark cell in an enemy ship with absolutely no contact with human beings…unless you count Vader and Tarkin, who only possess the title in the very strictest sense," she told him with distaste, "Sharing the barracks with my fellow officers hardly poses a problem."

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind either," he winked.

Leia flushed, moving past the crowd of chatting rebels. Han followed her. "You know what your problem is?" he began.

Leia raised an eyebrow, "No, but I'm sure you'll be willing to inform me."

He shook his head, "You don't treat yourself like a normal human being- nah, I'm not saying you consider yourself better than the rest of us," he quickly added, as she opened her mouth to retort something back, "You just seem to think that the weight of the world lies on your shoulders. You don't have any fun."

"Fun," she repeated. The entire galaxy was in danger of being controlled by power-hungry, malevolent forces and he berated her for not having fun?

"Yes, fun," he nodded slowly, as though to a small child, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

He didn't look surprised, but rather pensive. "When did you start…" he waved his hands about in the general direction of the room, "all this?"

She sighed, but she knew very well that he wouldn't leave her alone until he got her answer, "I became involved in the Alliance by the time I was seventeen. I became Senator at eighteen, but my father had encouraged my interests in politics long before."

"So, just two years of experience and yet, they all follow you around like sheep to the shepherd?" he whistled, sounding impressed, "And isn't eighteen very young?"

"I'm the youngest Senator in history," she couldn't help but let a little pride seep in.

"But, see, that's what I mean," he stopped walking and she stopped too. "You don't allow yourself the time to ever really relax and do something fun."

"I don't have the time-"

"Sure you do," he interrupted firmly, "We all do. If we didn't, we'd all spontaneously combust from our worries."

And with such flawless logic, who was she to argue?

"Come join Luke and Chewie and me for a little party in the night," he suggested.

She began to shake her head, but he was allowing no room for evasion. "Afraid, Princess?"

"Afraid?"

"I think you're afraid of having fun. Because that's something you don't know how to do."

"I'm perfectly able to have fun!" she retorted crossly, "I just choose not to."

"Mmhmm," he made a skeptical sound, "I'd say you're as much fun as a bantha with a hairball."

"At least I'm not half as scruffy as one," she cast a pointed look at Han's rather untidy locks.

"Just admit it, you're afraid of loosening up a bit."

"If 'loosening up' is what has led to _your_ current standards of morality, I'd say I'm well without it."

"If you wanted a quick tumble in the hangar, Princess, you need only ask."

"You're an insufferable little scumbag."

"Tsk, tsk. I wasn't aware you possessed such a filthy word in your vocabulary…"

Eddie Crombley turned to the General with some hesitation, "Sir…is it entirely…er…acceptable for the Captain to address the Princess in such a manner?"

The General simply ignored him. He wouldn't have allowed it if not for the spark of light in Leia's eyes and flush to her cheeks that had been absent for so long. Impertinence though it might be, whatever he was doing was doing good for the Princess. She needed the distraction. Even the fun.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow, I'm sorry, I haven't updated in a while, I've been super busy, but hopefully I'll be updating more frequently for the next three months.**

* * *

 _"I don't know who you are or where you came from..." – Leia Organa, Episode IV_

* * *

Leia stood outside the _Millennium Falcon_ in the hangar uncertainly. After having finally made up her mind to show the Captain that yes, she was perfectly able to have fun if she chose to…she was now second-guessing her prior confidence.

What was she doing? She should probably be using this extra time to plan the next raid, or even sleep. But, no. She was actually considering participating in a frivolous party, hosted by the most aggravating man in the galaxy, while there was a war going on in their midst.

The ramp suddenly sprung out and the door in the ship opened as Chewbacca poked his head out inquiringly. She sighed. Well, there was nothing for it now.

She entered the ship to be greeted with a sudden rush of hot air, sharply contrasted from the chill of the base. Ah, no wonder Han and Chewie had preferred to sleep in here. The atmosphere was almost luxurious in its spaciousness and warmth. She unzipped her white jacket, folding it over an arm and followed the Wookiee inside. They found Han and Luke at the holochess table, although it didn't seem at though they were actually playing. Han had his legs propped up, leaning back lazily as Luke sat forward, speaking eagerly.

As she entered, she realized Luke was animatedly telling Han of his life on the farm with his aunt and uncle…and Han was listening. Not with disinterest, either. He asked questions and nodded and smiled. There was nothing of the arrogant, exasperating man in him now. She leaned back, amused at their brotherly rapport. Han kept surprising her in the oddest of ways.

He caught sight of her at the entrance and grinned, switching quickly to an impudent drawl, "Well, would ya look at that? Her Highness decided to grace us with her presence after all."

Luke got up immediately, thoughtfully pulling up a chair for her. She took it with a smile and then turned back to Han, airily, "I managed to take out some time from my schedule."

"We're honoured," Han quipped, then turned to Luke, "Princess over here thinks she can have fun."

Luke looked back and forth between the two of them tentatively, "Well, she's here now, isn't she?"

Han nodded, "You're right. And to be here, she's gotta pass a rite of passage."

Leia raised an eyebrow, "Rite of passage?"

Luke looked rather shifty, "Han, I don't think…"

Han waved him off, "Her Worshipfullness came here to have fun and so, fun she shall have, isn't that right, Chewie?"

Chewbacca growled in agreement. Leia was starting to have some doubts over this venture. "And what exactly would you have me do?" she queried, tossing her coat to the floor heedlessly.

Han's eyes raked her insolently, from her thick practical pants to her form-fitting shirt. "White, again?" she thought she heard him mutter under his breath, before he reached from under the table, pulling out two dusty bottles of Corellian ale.

"Really?" she eyed them suspiciously, "You want me to get drunk?"

"Not exactly," Luke said almost apologetically, "Although that is the objective of the game."

She sighed, "And what game is this?"

"A getting to know each other game of sorts," Han replied casually, "I ask a question, any question of my choice. And you answer it truthfully. If you choose not to answer it, you drink. It's as simple as that."

She surveyed him thoughtfully, "I'll play it, if you play it too. One question of yours for one question of mine."

Han leaned back, a slow smile playing on his lips, "Done."

Luke took a gulp of his own glass of ale, "You don't have to do it if you don't want to-"

"Luke, it's fine," Leia smiled at him, "I'm not answering anything I don't want to. When does the game finish?" she inquired the last of Han.

"Well, in this case…it ends when one of us gets too drunk to answer coherently or passes out completely."

Leia could tell that was a sudden stroke of inspiration on his part. And this could go very badly indeed. She doubted she had quite the tolerance for alcohol the Captain had. But the less she drank, the more personal questions she answered…why was she even doing this?

Oh yes, to prove she could have fun. Though why Han's approbation really mattered, she had no idea. But she had come this far; she wasn't turning back now.

"Han, you can't get a Princess drunk!" Luke hissed urgently.

"I'm not getting her drunk," Han replied reasonably, "It's completely up to Her Highness whether she wants to or not."

Luke slumped back in his chair, looking defeated.

Leia lounged back in her chair, tapping her bottle of ale, "Shall we begin?"

Han gave her a crooked grin, "Absolutely. Ladies first…what's your favourite colour?"

"Is this part of your grand ploy to get the Princess drunk?" she inquired. Chewbacca chuckled.

"I want an honest answer," Han said simply.

She rolled her eyes at him, but thought about it. She'd never really considered her favourite colour before. "What if I don't have one?"

"Everyone has a favourite colour, Princess," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

She sighed and thought about it, "Blue, then."

"I'm surprised it's not white," he chuckled.

"What's yours?" she responded in kind.

"Green," he replied immediately, "First kiss?"

This was a question typical of him. "I was fourteen and he was a royal's son come to visit. He was sixteen. When was your last?"

He looked surprised, but replied, "The day before I met Luke, I suppose."

She was just as surprised at the answer, "That must've been over a month ago."

"Yeah, well, I didn't get much of a chance while I was being shot at by clones and saving my ass from being squished in a trash compactor. The Princess I rescued wasn't about to repay me with a kiss either."

She flushed, "She repaid you handsomely, as I recall, with a monetary reward."

"Didn't get my kiss, though," he shrugged.

Luke cleared his throat and she suddenly became aware of his and Chewbacca's presence in the room. "Well, go on," she changed the subject abruptly, "Ask your next question."

"Why did you choose politics?"

"I was interested in making a difference, I suppose. Especially with people like Tarkin and Vader in the world. I wanted to combat evil. And I'm good at it. Politics, I mean. I don't back down, ever. Why'd you choose smuggling?"

Han took a swig of his ale in response. Ah, a touchy subject then. "When was the last time you had a drink with a friend, just for the sake of it?"

She thought hard, "The night before I became Princess. A friend and I decided to have a drink…not to celebrate my crowning or anything…but just…to have fun, I suppose."

"Are you saying it's been at least a year since you've had fun?" Han queried in mock horror.

She frowned, "It's my turn to ask questions, Captain, not yours. How old are you?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know, you-"

"It means I don't know my birthday, Princess, nor what year I was born. I'd say I'm past twenty-five, less than thirty? I can't know for sure," he said gruffly.

Leia was silent. She couldn't imagine what it might be like to know so little about oneself. What kind of life must he have had as a child, she wondered.

"Why aren't you married?" Han posed his next question expressionlessly, "As a Princess, isn't it your duty to secure the royal line-"

"Just because I'm a Princess, that doesn't make me a breeding mare," she retorted sharply, "I didn't want to get married and that was that. My parents didn't force me." A pang hit her heart at the thought of her parents and without thinking, she picked up the bottle to take a sip from it. Han reached out to stop her, "That's going against the rules of the game, sweetheart," he set the bottle back down, but not before she'd caught a flash of compassion in his eyes, "You answered my question, now you ask me one."

"Have you ever loved anyone?" she asked tersely, "In a romantic sense?"

"No." He didn't get emotionally attached. "Why are you afraid to have fun?"

"I'm not afraid, I-" Han raised a skeptic brow before she could continue. "Fine," she glared, taking a gulp of the ale. "Why did you save my life instead of chasing after the bounty hunter?"

"Because I don't leave my friends to die on my watch," Han replied gruffly.

Leia was surprised to feel a sudden rush of warmth, that seemed to have less to do with the alcohol and heat of the room, and more to do with the idea of finding a friend in him. "Thank you," she said quietly and he inclined his head, before querying, "Why've you been avoiding Luke an' me an' Chewie ever since we got back from the raid?"

"I haven't been-" but at Chewie's soft growl she stopped. "I'm not avoiding you now, am I?"

"That wasn't the question."

She drank from the bottle again. "Why are you still here?"

"It's my ship, darlin'-"

"You know what I mean," she set the bottle down on the table, "Why haven't you left for your smuggling business in all this time?"

Han opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again…and took a swig of ale.

* * *

Han eyed the Princess warily. Luke had fallen asleep, piss-drunk and Chewie had left for his cabin, growing tired of the game. Leia was still going strong. The questions had gone from casual to personal to outright bizarre in the space of an hour. And he figured they were both a little too drunk at this point to really care. He couldn't remember if he'd taken another swill at that last question or if he'd answered it.

Leia surveyed her now-empty bottle regretfully. "I guess we'll need another one?"

"Ah, no, that's enough for you," he said hastily. He was a scoundrel, but he wasn't so far gone as to knock her out senseless. The General'd have his head if he got the Princess hungover…and he had a slight suspicion that so would Chewie. His furry friend had seemed to have taken a sort of protective fondness for the Princess.

"But we didn't finish the game," she frowned.

"I'm fresh outta ale," he lied, "Maybe we'll continue this some other time, but not today, Princess."

"Oh, alright. But I'm gonna win," she stated with confidence.

"Are you now?" he said, amused, "You don't answer half the questions I ask you, how do you expect to stay sober?"

"Neither do you," she pointed out, "You're just as afraid as I am."

"Afraid?" So now she was admitting to fear? He'd clearly gotten her more intoxicated than he'd thought. "I'm not afraid of anythin'."

"Everyone's afraid of something. Like losing a loved one," she looked past him, her expression sad. Yet, she did not cry.

"I don't have any," he shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"But you have friends," she said, wide-eyed, refocusing her attention back to him, "You have Chewie and Luke and…and…"

"And?" he prodded encouragingly.

"I'm not telling you," she folded her arms smugly, "You can get that one out of me when we finish the game."

"Is it so hard to say you consider me a friend?" he said in exasperation.

She frowned, "I didn't say that."

He sighed, "No. No, you didn't." Dammit, she wasn't drunk enough for that. "Well then, tell me something else," he grinned craftily, "Do you find me handsome? Excessively good-looking?"

"You have a scar on your chin," she frowned, "And your hair is scruffy. And you're never dressed neatly."

Clearly she wasn't drunk enough for that either.

"But you're not bad-looking," she added comfortingly, "In fact, you look sort of…rakish. I'm sure the ladies love that."

"You're a lady too."

"I'm not just any lady," she said imperiously.

"Yes, yes, I know, you're the Princess."

"I don't have time to take any interest in men."

Oh? Well, that was interesting. "Not even me?" he queried.

"Especially not you," she pointed a finger at him, "You're trouble."

"I really am," he drawled. "But so are you, sweetheart."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are. Trouble for me." He knew very well she wouldn't remember much when she woke the next day. "C'mon, let's get you back-"

"No," she shook her head stubbornly, "I'm staying here. We have to finish the game."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You need to sleep."

"Then I'll sleep here. It's nice and warm."

He realized there was no way he could get her to her quarters without someone seeing her. And she would probably never forgive him if any of her men saw her in such a state. "Alright, come with me," he held out a hand.

She took it and he led her to his cabin. She eyed it suspiciously, "Is this some sort of trick? Are you trying to get me to sleep with you, Captain, because I can tell you-"

"Not today, Princess, not today," he flashed a grin at her, "You can sleep in here, I'll go sleep somewhere else, don't worry."

"Okay," she nodded, kicking off her boots and pulling off her thick pants to reveal a tiny pair of briefs and shapely white legs. He watched, stupefied. She frowned, looking at him, "Aren't you going to bed?"

He swallowed, looking at the bed in question, back to her, and then taking a deep breath, closed the door and left. You're drunk, Han, he told himself sternly, get a grip. This whole "having fun" notion seemed to be a hell of a lot more trouble than it was worth. He'd hoped by doing this he could get her to loosen up a bit, but little had he realized that he'd be loosening up a bit himself, too.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I've updated. I've just been super busy, but I should be free to update more frequently now :) Anyway, thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and for favouriting/following 3**

* * *

 _"…but from now, you'll do as I tell you." – Leia Organa, Episode IV_

* * *

Leia was feeling unaccountably snug and warm in her cabin that morning. She yawned sleepily, even half-awake she assumed that perhaps there were temperature fluctuations in the base, but surely it would be fixed soon, she could take advantage of it while she could…

She sat bolt upright, banging her head against a low shelf in the process. This wasn't her cabin…she groaned, what exactly had she gotten herself into last night? She searched her memory – which was thankfully still intact – and heaved a sigh of relief. Han was perhaps not quite the scoundrel she'd initially taken him for after all.

Then came another conundrum…how was she to leave the ship without anyone else seeing her and presuming she'd spent the night with the rogue? She groaned. Well, there was nothing to it. She got up, pulled on her snowsuit and pants and tentatively opened the door. It was fairly quiet, she supposed the rest had gone about on their duties while she'd been slumbering as peacefully as an infant. This was what came of fooling about, she reminded herself sternly. Now she was woefully behind schedule with a reputation to maintain.

She stopped still. She'd found the Captain. He was sitting at his chair, yet he was definitely asleep. Feet propped up, leaning back with his eyes closed, he looked remarkably younger in repose. He'd lost the hard lines, the smirk…it made her wonder what kind of life he'd had before his smuggling days…what he'd been like as an innocent child…what he was hiding beneath his coarse layers of easy charm and arrogance.

He half-stirred and she took a step back. Better he didn't catch her watching him as he slept, she thought wryly. That'd do wonders for his already inflated ego.

Letting the ramp out of the ship down, she peeked out to find the space mostly empty. Not completely. She gave herself a little mental shake. Was she a Princess or was she not a Princess? She carried herself straight, eyes facing forward and confidently strode out in her regular brisk walk. If she made this look natural, she'd have no cause for concern, no one would suspect a thing.

* * *

"Did I forget to shave this morning or did something happen recently that I haven't been informed of yet?" Han inquired of Luke as they went out on a parole on the tauntauns.

Luke sighed audibly through the mouthpiece, "They saw Leia coming out of the _Falcon_ this morning. Word spreads fast around here."

"Ah. So they think I've melted the ice and corrupted the incorruptible, so to speak?" Han quipped.

"It's not funny, Han. They have a lot of respect for her and well…I mean…there're bound to be problems if a Princess sleeps with a soldier. She could give him favouritism, hold him back, distract him from his duties and vice versa."

"I'm not one of her rebels," Han pointed out, simply to be contrary.

"Right now, there's not much of a difference between you and me," Luke countered, "Look, I know as well as you and Leia that nothing happened. But no one else does. And that's gonna cause problems."

"Well, maybe they'll get rid of me and I'll be gone from this hellhole," Han muttered gruffly through an onslaught of snow.

"You and I both know you like being here well enough."

"So what am I supposed to do now?" Han demanded.

"Stay out of trouble," Luke advised, "And prove yourself to the rest of them that you've as much of a right to be here as everyone else. Prove that you care about this fight and aren't sticking around for the joyride."

Luke was right, of course. Han knew well enough from experience that much depended on how he treated this whole situation. If he went along with in his usual crude manner, not only would he lose the rebels' respect and tolerance, but his own place would be questioned as well. He'd gotten a medal from a last minute entrance that had saved Luke's life and the Alliance's fate out of pure luck. Naturally some would question his allegiance, his sudden change of heart. He didn't have much of a moral compass, but he knew he needed to do this right. Because he did want to stay.

"Han?" Luke called, his voice crackling from static.

"Yeah, kid?"

"You're quiet."

"I was just wondering…" Han began with a slow smile, "if Her Royal Highness is planning my execution right now as we speak."

* * *

She was going to kill Han.

No one had spoken to her directly of it, of course. But she caught many of the looks of suspicion and disdain cast Han's way. And everyone who spoke to her did so without looking her quite in the eye. Unfortunately, she couldn't exactly have a verbal sparring match with him in the middle of the hangar without anyone else taking note of it.

"Idiotic, good-for-nothing…" she muttered under her breath while surveying the new plans for taking down one of the Empire's bases.

"You seem a little distraught, Your Highness," the man himself drawled, approaching her from behind.

She spun around; thankfully the rest had left before he decided to speak with her. She settled for a cool, neutral one, "Hardly. One step closer to defeating the Empire and I'm decidedly happy."

He raised an eyebrow, "You jumped like the devil himself was at your heels."

"Don't flatter yourself," she flashed back irritably, "What do you want?"

"To talk," he said simply, "About last night…"

She sighed, "Nothing happened and yet everyone thought something did. Why in the world didn't you send me back to my cabin?"

"You were drunk," he responded flatly, "And you were determined to sleep in the _Falcon_. I wasn't about to send you tottering back to who knows where with you ending up crushed in an avalanche. We've still been getting little snowfalls every now and then, you know. And what would your rebels think of a drunk Princess?"

"They don't have a much better opinion of me now, do they?" she retorted.

"Listen," he ran a hand through his hair, "I did what I thought was best in the moment, I wasn't exactly dry an' sober myself. But, it's important that you handle this well."

"I was handling it well enough until you lumbered your way in here."

"That's exactly what I mean. If you avoid me, everyone's gonna know something's up. And I'm gonna lose my position. You need to treat me like you do any one of your soldiers, that's it. You're a Princess, you don't need to be afraid of what everyone else thinks of you," he snorted.

"I need their respect," she muttered.

"You think you're gonna lose their respect after this? You're human, Leia, no one faults you for that," he didn't seem to realize he'd slipped into using her name, "No one's gonna think any less of you after this. In fact, it's all going to die down sooner or later. The only person really affected by this is me."

She grudgingly conceded, "I suppose so. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to help fight," he stated simply, "I'm going to prove that I'm here for a purpose."

"Are you?"

He gave her a crooked grin, "D'you think I'd have stayed this long if I didn't have one?"

* * *

A few weeks later and there were few left with any qualms as to what exactly the laidback smuggler was doing on Hoth. Han made it quite evident that he was there to fight, taking on raids and doing his share of paroles without complaint. In fact, Leia noted, he wasn't even being difficult anymore. At least, not with anyone else. He still needled her with the same wicked quips whenever he could. Everyone else, however remarked upon his dedication and courage. Even the General told her in private, "He's a good man, Solo. I already knew he was a damn good pilot and shot, but he's doing good here. He's good for the soldiers' morale too, he doesn't get depressed or angry, but just does his job, cracks a joke here and there. He even encourages the younger ones."

Leia nodded reluctantly, "Yes, he's doing good."

The General may have remained thankfully unaware of the rumours that had gathered over the nature of her and Han's relationship, but that didn't mean everyone else was. Han was right, however, things had died down, her men looked her in the eye when she spoke to them, they had even come to share a sort of camaraderie with Han. However, she could hardly miss the knowing glances they exchanged whenever she and Han spoke…or more frequently, squabbled.

"It's not going to work," he spoke bluntly on the night of a raid. They had landed the Falcon in a dry spot of the rainforest. The planet they were scouting on was humid and wet and not particularly helpful in subterfuge, with their boots catching in the slick mud with every step. "If we wait another day, we'll miss our chance."

"Surely, you're not suggesting we do this today-"

"Today," he cut in grimly, "Today or never."

Leia gave him a stern look, "Captain, like it or not, we are following the General's orders. And he looked over this plan himself-"

"He agreed to it because it's safe!" Han rolled his eyes, "He wouldn't have let you out of his sight if he thought your life was in danger, he wanted to take the diplomatic approach-"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Sometimes, you gotta take risks, sweetheart, if you wanna win."

"This risk could cost us the entire-" she began sharply, but he hushed her with a hand over her mouth.

He breathed into her ear, "Look."

She looked past the foliage and discerned clones paroling near them. "Now, listen," Han whispered softly, "We can do this my way or your way, but if we're gonna do this my way, we gotta do this now."

She began to shake her head but he looked at her intently, "Trust me. I know you're too goddamned used to doing whatever the hell you want, but sometimes you have to let someone else help you. You have to take a risk to get what you want. And sometimes that means letting someone else take control."

She took a deep breath. She knew if they did this now, they'd certainly have the element of surprise. They were equipped for it, as well. If they waited till tomorrow, they risked the troops leaving with their supplies, not to mention their hostages.

"We have to do this now," Han repeated. She nodded briefly, switching on her mouthpiece to inform the rest of the troop, "We're moving in now. Stand by my signal."

* * *

Some hours later and they'd returned back to Hoth, having freed the hostages and collected the supplies with some difficulty. They'd also gathered vital information from the captured villagers. And Han had been right. This had been a risk they needed to take.

The General was not quite as pleased. "You completely disregarded my authority," he looked between the two of them.

"General, with all due respect, sometimes it's necessary to improvise," Han replied, "If we had raided them tomorrow, they might've killed or moved the hostages and-"

"Or you might've been killed today," the General said sharply, "How many men did we lose?"

"General, we risk death everyday, on every raid," Leia replied, "This was a risk we decided we could undertake."

"Without my orders."

"Yes, without your orders," Leia nodded, "And this isn't the soldiers' fault, they were directed by me."

"I know very well this sudden change of plans was orchestrated by Solo," the man glared, "Only he would've come up with such a foolhardy scheme and performed successfully."

"General?" Han looked unsure as to whether he was being paid a compliment or an insult.

"Every damn time I send you out on the field, you've come back with better results than half of my men. Whether you skew the original plans or not, you've still shown care for the men under your command and that is why I'm letting you off today for putting the Princess's life in danger."

"My life is worth no more than any other's," Leia frowned.

"You're counted as one of the few of Alderaan's survivors, my dear," the older man said quietly, "And you're a beloved member of royalty. So yes, your survival is indeed important, with political purposes notwithstanding."

Leia fell silent. She knew the General was reluctant to send her out on raids, normally he'd send her on diplomatic missions to neighboring planets, yet she'd convinced him that her leadership was occasionally necessary. And as much of a father-figure in her life, he'd understood her need to be out in the open, not within four walls. But, she realized until today, all of the missions she'd been on had been carefully planned and carried out with precision. No risks. Certainly not since the fiasco that had rendered her unconscious for a day and unwell for a week.

"Solo, I'm going to let you lead and help plan out our next manoeuvers," the General turned unexpectedly to Han, "I'll see you in the morning."

Han gave him a brisk nod, betraying no sign of surprise. As they exited the room, Han turned to Leia, "He's right, I guess, I shouldn't have risked the Princess's life."

It amused her how her station came as an afterthought in his mind.

"The Princess is perfectly able to take care of herself," she retorted.

"Oh, don't I know that," Han chuckled, "But, still, I suppose I should've taken into consideration your royal presence before I changed up the plans."

"If you hadn't, we'd be one step farther away from defeating the Empire," she stopped to look up at him, "So, thank you."

He shrugged uncomfortably, "I only did what I thought would work best. You trusted me today. Why?"

"I only did what I thought would work best," she repeated his words with a small smile.

She did trust him. No matter how much he enjoyed attempting to get under her skin, no matter how much he tried to appear the reckless scoundrel, no matter his past nor his demeanor…she trusted him as he was.


	10. Chapter 10

_"_ _Listen, Your Worshipfulness, let's get one thing straight. I take orders from just one person: me!" – Han Solo, Episode IV_

* * *

Leia bit down on her lower lip worriedly as the fleets landed in the docking bay; they were missing one and had lost a few men that day. The Empire had been ready for them this time, grown accustomed to the attacks; they must have predicted where they'd go next because this day hadn't gone well. Luke hobbled out from his damaged aircraft, coughing slightly as smoke issued from the back, his face half unrecognizable with blood.

Leia hurried over to him, "Luke! What happened?"

"It was an ambush," he coughed, swiping at his matted hair, "They knew we were coming."

"You're bleeding," she said, then called out to the medical personnel that had arrived, "We need to get him to the medical bay immediately."

"It's not as bad as it looks," Luke protested but Leia replied sternly, "You need to get that checked out before it gets infected, how did you manage to get it in the first place? I doubt a blaster left that."

"It was the bounty hunter…from before," Luke muttered, as he was helped to the medbay. "The one that got away…he had a dagger and came up from behind me…Han shot him the back before he did any worse."

Speaking of Han…Leia swivelled around, but there was no sight of him, Chewie or the Falcon. "Damn you, you get back here right now," she mumbled distractedly, looking up into the clear bright sky above. If they lost Han today…if she lost another friend, another person she cared about…

The Millennium Falcon zoomed into view, making a not-quite clean glide into the bay. The ramp opened and Chewbacca lumbered out with one furry arm under Han's, supporting him. Leia let out a sigh of relief. The man certainly wasn't dead though he looked a little worse for wear. His face was wan though he looked fine elsewhere…unless…

"Han, your jacket," she demanded as soon as she reached them.

He raised an eyebrow, "I knew the day would come that you'd be wanting my clothes off, Princess, but-"

"Stop being an idiot. Where are you hurt?" she opened the flap of his jacket, the side that he seemed to be holding out at an awkward angle and gasped. There was blood seeping through his side, but it didn't seem as though the blaster had grazed him. It had made a clean hole.

"We need to get him to the medbay _now_ ," Leia nodded at Chewie, who growled back in agreement, "Let's put him on a stretcher," she beckoned to one of the staff standing by.

"Hey, I'm not so bad off that I can't walk by myself," Han objected feebly, just before his legs collapsed beneath him. Leia and Chewbacca helped him onto the stretcher and accompanied him to the medbay. "Can't wait to see me with my shirt off, Princess, can you?" he winked, then immediately winced in pain despite himself.

"Well, at least his vanity's intact," Leia rolled her eyes at Chewie, "He'll live alright."

"That's no way to talk about a man injured in the line of duty," Han muttered.

Leia stifled a snort. Truth be told, she was feeling very thankful that he was alive. Not that she'd tell him, of course.

* * *

Han lay back in the medical bay feeling heartily sick of bedrest. A thick gauze bandage covered the wound in his right side; other than that, he'd escaped unharmed. He should have known this raid looked too easy to be real. He'd lost too many men today, Luke had almost been killed and now he was stuck in this stuffy, white place. The only good thing that had come out of the whole venture was that he'd gotten rid of that Lal Inquor…except the dying man's words had been a bit of a downer.

"Feeling good about yourself, Solo?" the man had jeered weakly, "Oh yes, I know who you are. You weren't much different from me a little while ago, were you? A low-born mercenary."

"There's a difference between smuggling and killing for money," he'd said shortly, rummaging through the man's coat lining.

"Ah, but you've never really been above either," the man had whispered, "Don't think you can put yourself up on a pedestal now that you've chosen a side. Your past will come out eventually and everyone will see you for what you really are."

"A devilishly good-looking, charming pilot?"

"A coward," Lal Inquor hissed, "A man who acts solely in self-preservation. Who won't hesitate to trade another's life for his own…or for the right price."

He had shaken off the bounty hunter's words easily at the time, but now as he lay alone in the medical bay unit with only his thoughts for company, he felt rather bothered. In truth, he wasn't exactly sure what kind of man he was. Had the old Han Solo been capable of Inquor's assumptions? Yes. He'd never had much of a moral compass and he preferred himself live and kicking, thank you very much. But, what about now? Since joining the Alliance, he'd never been put in a situation that directly came down to choosing between death and survival. He'd simply done whatever finished the job at hand. And he was being well-paid for it too. Smuggling illicit goods had involved risks too. Yet, he recalled when he'd been about to be boarded by Imperials and had abandoned Jabba's goods – the result of that decision was what had landed him here in the first place – in order to pass through safely. It had been a split-second decision, why? Because he, Han Solo, valued his own life more than anything else in the world. So if it really came down to it…if he was held at gunpoint and had to choose…would he sacrifice himself up for some noble cause or would he do whatever it took to save his own skin? Because, deep down, was he really the self-serving scoundrel he'd been for the majority of his life? He didn't know, and he wasn't particularly sure he wanted to find out.

"Han!" Luke strode into the unit cheerfully, a white gauze bandage under his left eye, his face slightly swollen. It had been a couple of days since they'd landed from their last raid and unfortunately, the nurses seemed to think Han was still in need of some recuperation.

"Hey, kid, a free man now, are ya?" he said dryly.

"If you mean I'm free from bedrest, yeah, I am," Luke grinned, "The nurses have been saying you've been a little grouchy."

"Grouchy? Me?"

"More like an insufferable nuisance," Leia corrected as she entered, standing next to Luke with her arms folded as she surveyed Han's prone figure with a critical eye. "If it were up to me, I'd let you out and allow that wound to fester, I doubt you'd be much of a loss-"

"Hey!"

"But, the General seems to think we need you around here," she finished in a mock-sigh, before turning to Luke with a warm smile, "How are you feeling?"

Han might as well have been a wampa, from all the affection he'd received.

"I'm alright," Luke smiled back shyly, "Nurse said I might have permanent scarring, though."

"That's nothin' to worry about, kid," Han said airily, "Women love a man with scars. Say they make us look more rakish."

Leia doubted Luke could ever appear rakish with his innocent blue eyes and trusting smile, but she said nothing to contradict him. Han, on the other hand, would never look anything less than a scoundrel. Even now, as he lay back harmlessly on the bed, he exuded a dangerous air of raw masculinity…one that the majority of the female population on Echo Base had not failed to notice. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but Han had an effect on her Luke never could. While Luke had no shortage of admirers either, being the young hero who'd destroyed the Death Star with his easy smile and gentle behaviour holding a charm of their own, Leia found him sweet…but not attractive. At least not to her. Though she held no feelings for Han in any romantic sense, she supposed she'd have to be blind to remain oblivious to his blatant sensuality. It simply pervaded any room he was in and it wasn't just because of his rugged good looks. It was his confidence that did it. Luke lacked that aura of…experience.

"Is that something you've discovered from experience?" she couldn't help herself from saying in a doubtful tone, though she knew she was leading herself into a trap.

"Why don't you come over here and discover for yourself, Princess," he grinned, daring her.

She took measured steps towards him and sat down on the edge of the bed, maintaining a neutral expression while his shifted to surprise. He'd never expected her to call his bluff, she thought with amusement. "I think," she said quietly, "that you're not especially fond of bedrest, Captain."

"It depends on who's joining me."

Luke coughed loudly. She ignored the suggestion, "I think you'd rather let a wound fester and worsen than be patient and allow it time to heal."

"I think I've had enough time to rest," he sat up, wincing from the sharp pain that shot through his side, "I think I know my own damn body well enough to judge when I can be out and about and not be confined like a child."

"No, I don't think you do," she rested one hand on his shoulder and firmly pushed him back into the pillows, "I think you're bored. And you dislike being in one place for too long."

Somehow, he gathered this conversation wasn't just about his reluctance to remain in the medical bay.

"I just prefer being in charge of myself," he said carefully.

Her lips quirked upwards slightly, "You don't like having a woman take care of you?"

He was taken aback at first and then grinned back, "Well, if she is, I'm not complaining."

"Lovely. I'll have Nurse Malia bring in some food and water," she said brightly. Luke chuckled in a relieved manner from behind her.

Well. He should've known that one was coming.

"If I don't want to stay in here, you can't force me," he reverted to grumpy obstinacy.

"No?" she queried, amused, "I can order you."

* * *

"How's Solo doing?" the General asked Leia later.

"He's fine, recovering nicely," Leia replied, "Just a little out of sorts with being confined to the medical bay. He seems to be under the impression that he's well enough to be out in the field already."

"Like any man," the General chuckled, before sobering. "We lost quite a few good men and women on Mreden, we need to be more careful in the future. We got too confident after the Death Star."

Leia nodded, "I was going to suggest Daquine next, but I fear that would be too obvious."

"No…we need to put a hold on the raids for now," the General said grimly, "We received word that a number of senators who have remained sympathetic to our cause are being imprisoned on Coruscant. We need to find a way to get to them. Now, especially, since the Empire is still weakened. They will recover quickly, however, and if we are going to do this, we'll need to do this soon."

"How soon?"

"As soon as our men are ready. We're going to need our best."

"Do you know how we're going to accomplish this?" Leia asked, her mind working frantically, "They'll be heavily guarded…and they might expect us to attempt to free them. And now that they know I'm working with the Alliance, you won't be able to use me as a "diplomatic envoy"."

"I know. We don't have a plan as yet, but we're currently working out the layouts of the prison. There has to be a weakness somewhere and we will find it," the General said resolutely. Leia only wished she shared his confidence. Coruscant, now known as the Imperial Centre, would be a veritable death trap. They could hardly fly in, shooting blasters from every angle. It would have to be a quick, carefully thought-out, well-executed plan. And it would be very easy for something to go wrong.

Han would not be the man for the job, she thought dryly, recalling how he'd shot off his blaster at every opportunity, even running headlong into a group of clones with a warrior cry. No, he certainly needed some training in that department, even though she supposed he'd already proved himself capable of subtlety when required…Luke too, would be unsuitable, he was a pilot…she was already forming a list of names for the team they'd send…when something the General said caught her attention.

"Sorry, could you repeat what you said?" she asked distractedly.

"I will be leading the rescue," the General stated.

She stared up at him, "Are you certain that's wise? I mean-"

"I'll leave Rieekan and you in charge here," he replied firmly, "But, yes, it's necessary that I go. This is going to be a highly important mission and my men are going to need me. We've lost too many and many are injured still. Rescuing the senators will no doubt give us some leverage – they may know things we do not as yet – and it will be a damning victory against the Empire."

"Why don't I come with you?" Leia suggested.

"No, no. You need to stay here," Dodonna said gently, "If I go, I'm going to need both you and Rieekan to direct matters from the base. And if anything goes wrong-"

"Nothing will go wrong," Leia interrupted, "That's why we're formulating a plan, sending our best." Dodonna was the closest thing she had to a father now, she refused to even consider the notion of "anything going wrong".

"Still, we must be prepared," he replied with calm rationality, then turned as Rieekan entered the room and took him aside.

Leia was about to head to her quarters when Luke almost ran into her, an uneasy expression on his young face. "Luke!" she placed a calming hand at his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"Er…nothing!" he attempted at evasion, running a hand through his hair nervously, his hands hidden behind his back like a guilty child.

"Clearly it's not nothing. Tell me, what is it. Why were you running?"

"It's Han," he muttered finally, "He needed me to get something for him from the Falcon."

"Don't tell me it's his favourite teddy bear," Leia said dryly.

"Ah…not exactly…"

* * *

Han watched Leia careen into the medical bay angrily. He quite liked seeing her all huffy. And it was a welcome source of amusement stuck as he was in this dank little space. But recognizing Luke trail dejectedly behind her, he began to have some cause for alarm.

"You sent him to the Falcon for _this_?" she waved a bottle of Corellian ale at him, " _Are you serious?_ "

"I wasn't gonna have anything," he lied easily, "It was all for the kid. To celebrate." At least the last bit was true.

"Celebrate? What cause do we have for celebration?" she rolled her eyes, advancing threateningly, "You are currently under bedrest. Do you know why? Because you almost got yourself killed! And now you want to have a drink? Do you know what this can do to your system with all the medical drugs you've been undertaking to reduce the pain?"

"Leia, it wasn't Han's fault," Luke said in a small voice.

"Leave it, kid, it was my idea anyway," Han waved him off, before turning back to Leia, "Listen, Your Worshipfulness, I am fully aware of the effects this can have on me and I assure you, I wouldn't have gotten the kid to get it and risked your royal wrath if I didn't have a good reason."

"Oh, really? So what's your reason, Captain? Having "fun"?"

"I understand you're not really one to comprehend the notion," he tossed back snidely, "But there's no reason for bitterness, Your Highness."

"Is this your way of undermining my orders?" she demanded.

"Believe it or not, as welcome the idea of retribution for forcing me in this little hellhole sounds, that was not why I asked Luke to get the ale," he said exasperatedly, "It's his birthday!"

She opened her mouth to retort something back then closed it. And then said, "Oh."

"It's not that big of a deal," Luke said hurriedly, "I know I shouldn't have gotten the ale, but-"

"It's fine, Luke," she said reassuringly, "I know the men like to celebrate special occasions anyway they can and your closest friends here are Captain Solo and Chewbacca, so it makes sense-"

"And you," he added shyly.

She smiled back, "Well, I certainly won't say no to a little drink on the occasion. But none for the Captain," she sent in Han's direction sternly.

"I s'pose a cup of water would suffice?" he asked in a slightly mocking tone, picking up his cup from the table next to him.

"How old are you turning, Luke?" she asked.

"Twenty."

"He's becoming a man today, that's what," Han said proudly, "Finally outta his teens at last. We're gonna need a rite of passage for that-"

Leia cut him off, "You are not getting up to anymore mischief until you're out of here."

"Is that an order as well, Princess?"

"It's a statement of fact. Now," she poured herself a cup of ale and handed the others to Luke and Chewbacca, "A toast to the birthday boy."

"Hear, hear," Han mumbled, eyeing his cup of water dolefully.

Leia took a few sips, before setting her cup down, "I have to be off, I have some work to attend to, but you two are welcome to stay with Han as long as you want," she smiled at Luke and the Wookiee, before heading out the room.

Luke watched her leave cautiously and then took up the bottle of ale she'd left behind and turned back to Han with a sly smile, "I don't suppose a few sips wouldn't hurt. Leia would never know."

Han hesitated, then said, "Nah, you go ahead, kid. I need to get outta here as soon as the nurses deem me able and if I'm suddenly set back after a few sips of ale…"

"True," Luke grinned, then quickly hid the bottle under his jacket as a nurse passed by.

Luke may not have noticed anything amiss by his refusal, but Chewie certainly had. "Is that really why you're passing up on a drink?" his friend taunted in Shyriiwook.

Han ignored him. _He_ didn't even know why he wasn't taking advantage of the Princess' absence to down a couple gulps, but something about her fury and look in her eyes as she'd reprimanded him had shown him something. Whether Leia knew it or not, she'd been taking care of him. She'd shown real concern for his wellbeing and not just because he was working for the Alliance. It had been a long time since someone cared that much for his worthless hide.

* * *

Leia sat down on her bunker, fingering a thin necklace and staring off into space. It was her birthday. She hadn't even remembered till Han had announced it was Luke's. No one had wished her, of course, seeing as it hadn't been news she'd spread around since arriving back from the Death Star. She looked down at the necklace in her hands wistfully. Her parents had given it to her on her last birthday, the last gift they would ever give her.

She shook her head and put the necklace away in a small box. She couldn't dwell on the past. The present is a gift, her father had once wisely told her and he had been right. She was grateful for a great number of things at the present moment; the Alliance's victories, leading men and women who respected and followed her without question, having an important role and not sitting back uselessly while a war raged on…those were things that did not quite bring happiness, but it brought a sense of satisfaction in her life. The closest she'd felt to happiness since the Battle of Yavin…she realized it had been in the moments spent with Luke and Han and Chewie. They had become her friends and she cared for them, while they did for her as well. The feeling of relief, watching them emerge from the last raid, if not unscathed, then alive, had been almost overpowering in its intensity. And that relief had been something astoundingly close to real joy.


	11. Chapter 11

_"_ _The fear of loss is a path to the Dark Side." – Yoda, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith_

* * *

No.

No.

No.

He wasn't dead, Leia refused to believe it.

He'd left with hardly a goodbye and a pat to her shoulder. He'd looked at her with such paternal pride before he'd headed to his ship; the daughter he never had, the father she had lost.

"It was a trap," Rieekan was saying in a grim tone, "We never stood a chance. They knew we were coming. They killed them all, the senators too."

No.

No.

No.

"Princess?" Rieekan asked, finally catching sight of her expression.

"He's not dead," she shook her head firmly.

"Your Highness, the place has been totally destroyed, we've sent-"

"He's not dead," she repeated, hard and sure. She turned on her heel and left, walking briskly up to her cabin. It was all nonsense; Dodonna was tough and he was intelligent too – even if it had been a trap, he could've fought his way out of it. Even if the place was destroyed…a flicker of hope rose in her chest…he could have escaped, couldn't he? Perhaps he was still there, back on the planet, they needed to send a rescue party, her mind worked feverishly, already conducting plans, forming a group of individuals for the job. She'd go too, yes, she'd make sure they found him. She'd tell Rieekan to gather a team – she'd lead and she wouldn't take any no's from him – he wasn't General, not when Dodonna was still alive.

She stopped in her pacing and headed to the door to go back, when it opened for her after one swift knock.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded harshly, "And don't you know any better than to walk into people's rooms without permission?"

"I knocked," Han said shortly. He'd been recovering well from his injury – she'd made sure of that – although he still favoured his left side. Why would he possibly be here now?

"If you're here to ask me when you'll be sent back on the field or to negotiate over your payment, we'll see to that later, I have to talk to Rieekan," Leia said sharply, moving past him.

"You just did, I thought." The quiet words reverberated around the room, holding her still.

"I came to my cabin to clear my head, now that I know what I have to do, I have to organize a search party for the General, I have to-"

"He's dead, Leia. They found his body, didn't you hear?"

She shook as a tremor of panic hit her. "Maybe they were wrong, maybe it wasn't his body they found, maybe-"

"Leia, he's gone."

She swivelled around to face him, walked up to him and jabbed him in the chest with a finger, "You don't know that. You can't just barge in here and say whatever you want. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know what I heard," Han said calmly, "Listen, I know you're upset, but you can't go back down there like this. The men need a clear-thinking, rational leader right now and you're not thinking with your head, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that!" she gritted her teeth, "And don't tell me what to do. I don't know what kind of treatment you were used to back when you were smuggling and doing all sorts of illegal activities with a Wookie counterpart, but I call the shots here, you understand? And I know Dodonna's alive. I just know it."

"Alright. Say that you do," he caught her hand firmly, holding it by her side, "You want to go down there and not only question Rieekan's authority, but the legitimacy of your men's witness? You weren't the only one who cared about Dodonna, Princess. Most of those men down there are just as broken as you are right now, and some of them are the ones who went back to that helltrap to see the truth for themselves."

He was blunt, but whatever he was saying knocked the reality of the situation into her. "If you need some time to yourself, take it. But do not go back down there until you're ready to act like a leader," he grasped her shoulders and looked her in the eye, "Okay?"

She willed herself to look back at him unwaveringly, even while a storm of emotions was gathering within her. She had to be strong. She didn't need to take time for herself – she didn't _have_ time – none of them did if they wanted to defeat the Empire. But before she could even blink, a lone tear escaped from her eye. "Damn," she muttered, swiping at her cheek, avoiding his perceptive gaze. But with that one tear, more fell.

She hugged her arms to herself, trying to pull herself away from him, but he only sighed and put his arms around her tightly. She gave into it. Into the tears. Into his embrace. She hadn't cried for her parents, but she was crying now. It was too much, all of it. Was she to lose everyone she cared about in this war? Was it all really worth it? She couldn't even hold herself together in front of Han, how was she to face everyone else?

As though he'd read her mind, Han said softly, "You don't need to go back now, take the rest of the day off if you need it." He was so strong and warm, she almost didn't want to let go, but at the same time, she shunned his pity – she didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she wiped at her cheeks, looking up at him. She'd never exactly been what one might call "kind" to him.

"Because I know what it's like to lose everyone you care about at once," he said simply.

As she waited for him to continue, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, moving to sit at her bunk, pulling her to sit beside him. Instead of resisting or ordering him to leave or suspiciously questioning his intentions, she remained silent and sat, hands folded in her lap.

"Listen, I was never rich or titled like you, but I knew what it was like to be happy, I knew what it was like to have a family that loved me."

Leia nodded, watching him. She could tell it wasn't easy for him to talk about it; he never spoke of his past to anyone, much less her. He leaned forward, not looking at her and continued in a neutral tone, "I never knew my real parents but I lived with a middle-aged woman I called Mum because she was the closest thing I had to it, and a sister, another little girl we took in from the streets. Myrah. You once asked me why I don't know my age? It was because I was just a kid when I got taken in, I was on the streets for most of my childhood. We didn't have the money for gifts and Myrah didn't know her birthday either so we didn't have cause to make a big deal over it and I wasn't old enough to care. When I was in my teens – a man came to our mother, said he needed money back. Apparently he worked with her husband – they were in some dirty business together in the past. We didn't have the cash and what little we did went into our school fees – we had just enough for that. So, I thought I'd quit, get a job, pay the man off and then we'd be fine. But instead of finding a decent job for myself, I took the man's offer and he recruited me into his line of work. He was a bounty hunter. He used me to get information, for smuggling on the side, taught me how to fly a ship…even when we had the money to get rid of him, I stayed on. I liked the adventure. And I liked the money."

"Did you love your mother and your sister?" Leia asked softly, though she already knew the answer.

He paused for a moment, then said roughly, "Not enough."

"What happened?"

"They died," he said bluntly, "And it was my fault. He wanted me to kill someone for him. And I couldn't. I backed out and told him I wasn't going to work for him anymore. And then he killed them while I was out of the house. He'd come after me, realized I knew too much, could get him into trouble. And while I was in hiding, like the coward I was, he killed them."

"What happened to him?"

"I killed him," Han shrugged, looking down. There was no guilt or remorse as he uttered this last. "I'm not noble, Princess, I've done bad things in my life, I've killed and I've stolen. I've never killed innocent people, you understand? But I've shot a man down in cold blood and I've made my living whatever way I could."

Leia was silent for a few minutes, taking in his words before she said quietly, "Even if you haven't done noble things, you've had noble intentions. You took a job to save your family, you left your education for them. And you refused to kill a man for money, even if you were risking your life in the process. Yes, you endangered your family, but not knowingly. You were still young."

"I was probably around the same age you are now."

"Still, you didn't have anyone around you to stop you from making bad choices. Because I've grown up with social scrutiny and with my father's politics, I've been trained into becoming who I am. You were trained differently. And look where you are now. You're fighting for a good cause."

"So are you," Han responded, finally looking back at her, "But even when you think you're doing the right thing, people get hurt. People die. So sometimes, you just gotta ask yourself: are you doing the right thing – for who, and why?"

Leia understood what he was trying to get at now. He wasn't just trying to tell her he both understood and had felt the same loss and pain she had. He was making a point about what she was doing. In the end, he had chosen to do the right thing. He had chosen to come back to help save his friends, the rebels, even if it meant risking his own life in the process. And he was still here now. If Leia gave up now, she'd be throwing everything her father had worked for, everything Dodonna had worked for, and countless others, right back in their faces. They had left her a legacy and she had to continue it. She needed to hold strong for that. Before, she had thought of vengeance and destruction – _that_ had been her drive. But had that been the right thing, the right motivation? No, she needed to do this for the people, for all those who had suffered and would continue to suffer under the Empire's tyranny – she needed to do this because it was the _right_ thing to do.

She would grieve for the loss of her loved ones. She was only human, as the exasperating man sitting next to her so loved to remind her. But she wouldn't let that grief overcome her…or turn to something darker.

* * *

Han went to lie back in his bunk back at the Falcon for a bit, thinking back to his conversation with Leia. He never talked about his family with anyone before, preferred not to think back on the past, to leave that life of his behind.

But he had seen something of that same anguish and despair in him – he didn't want Leia to make the same mistakes he had. She was better than that. So many people depending on her too. Yet, so young.

He normally didn't think of her age as a barrier between them, in some ways she was more mature than he was. However, that morning had displayed some vulnerability of hers that she never showed to anyone, much less him. And he had held her tight, demonstrating a more compassionate side of him than he usually allowed himself to have. He hadn't held her because she was a woman; to seduce and to charm. He had held her to comfort.

He never tried to form strong relationships or friendships – not since his family had been so brutally killed. He didn't want to care about people to only have them taken away from him. Chewie had been a solid exception, but it helped that he also considered him a sort of business associate as well. He supposed, in a way, Leia was like that too. She wasn't exactly the easiest of people to get along with, she didn't open up to people quickly – if at all – and she was, well, a Princess and as interfering as they come. She was about as likely to want for relationships as he was, even if they both had their own ways of showing it.

Being alone in the world, without anyone who cared for you – driving away every chance at affection – that, he supposed, was what had done him in, when he had been around her age. After killing the man who had murdered his family, he hadn't been much better, he'd taken to different jobs – each worse than the last, until he'd met Chewie and they'd started up their own smuggling business. There was a sort of darkness that existed in every person, he reckoned, and it was very easy to give into it once you'd been exposed. He hadn't wanted Leia to fall into that either. As much as he enjoyed teasing her for being an Ice Princess, cold and ruthless…he was very much aware that she was a flesh-and-blood human woman…and she had feelings and wants too, as much as she tried to hide them.

He didn't want to delve into the particulars of it – he found her attractive, but also cared for her – never a good sign. He wasn't Han Solo for nothing, though. He could have any woman he wanted.

Just not that one.


	12. Chapter 12

_"Captain, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited." - Princess Leia Organa, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back_

* * *

It had been a good year on Hoth so far. The raids got trickier, as the Empire gradually regained power and resources, but they had grown more careful as well. And Rieekan was a good leader, Leia had to admit. They'd built up a mutual sort of respect between them. While initially she had doubted his capabilities and inwardly resented him for taking Dodonna's place, she'd come to realize he was proving to be even more efficient and resourceful than the late general. And seeing as he was hardly protective over her, she could count on him to make logical decisions regarding her role in missions and raids.

Such as this one.

She, Han and Luke had stealthily boarded a ship headed for Dantooine, allegedly holding a captured general hostage. They hadn't originally planned to board the ship, but to report on its destination and holdings. However, she'd come to appreciate Han's advice on taking risks and so, once they had figured out General Liawkman was being held onboard, they snuck in when they could, hiding behind the crates in the back of the ship.

Tiptoeing quietly across the deck, keeping a firm hold on her laser, Leia took a quick survey of their surroundings, "This isn't where they're holding him."

Han looked incredulous, "We haven't checked those rooms over there, in case you hadn't noticed-"

"I've been held hostage onboard a ship before, in case you hadn't noticed," she adopted his tone, rolling her eyes, "Believe me, they wouldn't keep him in this area. There aren't any guards patrolling and it's far too open."

"If you say so, Your Worship," he replied, following her, "Luke, why don't you check down there just in case?"

"He could be discovered; do you want to get us all killed?" she said irritably, about to take a left when Han pulled her back sharply into a dark corner, holding a hand over her mouth. She struggled for about a second, before she noticed the clone patrolling down the side.

She relaxed her posture, keeping her eyes trained on the clone. Han released his hand over her mouth, yet she realized he had not loosened his arm wrapped around her torso, trapping her back against him. Typical. The man couldn't resist an opportunity to hold a woman in a secluded dark corner, even if they were hiding for their lives on an Imperial cruiser. Or at least that was what she thought.

Tilting her head slightly to look at him, she could see that he was just as focused on the clone as she had been, his brows knitted in a slight frown. She wriggled slightly and that was when he looked at her and seemed to comprehend that he was still holding on to her tightly. A slow grin lit his face, even as he looked back to the clone, maintaining his grip. He knew very well she could hardly struggle without making a commotion and catching the clone's attention. Impossible man. She resignedly kept still, although her breath hitched when he slowly drew her blaster from the holster on her waist with his other hand in a smooth, fluid motion. He could've grabbed his own, but no, he did this to purposefully discompose her and Leia hated to admit it, even to herself, but it was working…

She gave herself a little mental shake as she realized what he was about to do. "No," she breathed warningly. The sound of the blaster firing could gather unwanted attention. They needed to make this a quick, efficient rescue without anyone becoming aware of their presence.

He bent his head, murmuring in her ear, "He's not going to leave this corridor."

She did a quick scan of the place – she'd been too distracted to notice – but this was very likely where the General was being held, she recognized the similar layout to the Death Star. Behind one of those doors…she quickly made an estimation to be the one on the far right. And Han was correct, they wouldn't be able to make it without the clone seeing them.

"We can't fire," this she was certain about.

"So what would you have me do, Princess?" this time he let his mouth brush against her ear, his breath hot and teasing and she had to suppress both a shiver and a glare in his direction. How he managed to disconcert her at the time, she didn't know. How he had the audacity to do so…well, she'd always known he was a scoundrel.

"Wait till he gets close, then grab him from around his neck and hold till he's unconscious," she said, formulating a plan quickly.

"Easier said than done, sweetheart, with all that armor…"

"I've got your back," she responded, "I'll shoot him myself if things get out of control."

"Why, Your Worship," he finally released his hold around her and she felt unexpectedly deprived of his heat – she could hear the grin in his voice, as though he knew what she was thinking – "Have a little faith in me."

Easier said than done.

* * *

Han quickly grabbed the clone from behind, grunting as he struggled, before finally going limp. He set him down on the ground with some effort, while Leia headed into the cell. He kept the blaster trained outside, watching warily for any more troopers.

He hadn't exactly meant to land up in such close quarters with the Princess, but her certainly wasn't complaining. He'd come to accept the fact that he was attracted to her, that there was a sharp sort of heat between them that hadn't merely come about as a by-product of their infamous arguments. That didn't mean he'd come to take it seriously, however. She was his superior officer and he didn't like to mix business with pleasure. Not to mention the fact that she'd probably kiss a tauntaun before admitting she might feel the same way.

He knew she did. Perhaps she didn't quite realize it, but she was definitely attracted to him, she felt that heat too. And there had been no greater enjoyment for him than to confirm that with her back pressed to his chest and her heart thudding from more than just the danger they were in, that tiny catch in her breath when he'd allowed his lips to just sweep the dainty curve of her ear. She was so small in his arms, yet she was like an explosive; volatile and brimming with locked-up passion. He'd only managed to release some of it when he made her angry and damn, she was a stunner when she was angry. He'd allowed himself to imagine far too many times what she might be like in bed, although he'd quickly shut down such thoughts as pointless and futile.

He'd considered finding himself a bedmate – the base had a number of willing females who'd made their attraction towards him pretty clear – but he knew any sexual experience would be lacking and unsatisfactory if it wasn't with the woman he wanted. That was the root of the whole messy problem. Physical attraction could be brief, but with Leia, it only seemed to get worse over time. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because he saw her everyday, they worked together regularly, even spent some of their limited free time in each other's company. Constantly being in such close quarters with the woman in question would frustrate any man, he reasoned. And maybe it also had to do with how she didn't throw herself at him, blatantly nor indirectly, as many females were wont to do in his company; maybe he just liked the chase. But, he couldn't seem to get her out of his system.

"Found him?" he queried, nudging the clone's helmeted head with his foot and shaking off the thoughts.

"He's here…but he's not conscious. He's been tortured. Looks like Vader's work," she responded grimly from the cell, "We'll have to carry him out."

Han dubiously peered in to inspect the massively sized man, "Great."

Chewie's worried growl from his earpiece made him halt, "What is it?"

"They're starting to return to the ship. You need to get out of there fast."

"Damn, damn, damn. Okay, we'll be there as soon as we can, we found the General, but he's knocked out cold."

"Hurry," his friend said tersely.

"Where's Luke?" Leia suddenly looked around in concern.

The firing of blasters down the next corridor answered her question. "Found him."

* * *

Leia slumped down tiredly in the Falcon. She'd hardly gotten much sleep over the past days and the rescue had been an extremely close-call. Luckily they'd gotten the General out of the ship with few mishaps, due to Luke being the centre of attention on the other side. She wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to cause such a ruckus, but luckily he'd escaped. This hadn't gone smoothly, but at least they were alive and had gotten away. Her head hurt and she leaned back, shutting her eyes for a bit. A rough jolt in the ship had her eyes flying open. They'd been shot at; the cruiser was giving chase.

"Han!" she quickly joined him behind his captain's chair, "We need to lose them fast!"

"Tell me something I don't know," he retorted, "Luke, take the other end and fire!"

She watched worriedly as the cruiser dodged and continued in pursuit, "Han, if we can't lose them, we can't lead them back to Hoth."

"I can lose them, I can lose them," he said stubbornly, pulling the gear to lightspeed, then looked in horror as the ship didn't make the jump. The same horror pulled at Leia's insides. He tried again, to no avail and swore violently before making a wide swerve around, trying to dodge the cruiser's firing. A sharp hit made the entire vessel shake.

" _Han!_ "

"I know, I know, hang on!" he fiddled with some knobs and hit the thing, dodging around a crater and then pulled the gear again, slumping back in his chair when they finally made the jump. It took about thirty seconds of pure relief to hit Leia, before her fury sparked.

"This is ridiculous; do you know how dangerous that was? You keep insisting on flying this thing every time, whether it's a safe bet or not, I've told you at least a hundred times by now to not fly it if you're not completely certain it's going to get us out of a tight corner! We almost got caught back there, why? Because _you_ couldn't bear to part with your precious ship to fly a more reliable one," she shot out with biting sarcasm.

"How many times has this "thing" saved my life? Saved _our_ lives?" he demanded, turning to face her, "I know what I'm doing and I don't need some goddamn stuck-up princess to tell me otherwise!"

"Do you really know what you're doing?" she said with derision, "Every choice of yours is a split-second decision, you treat every mission like a sort of game, getting closer and closer to the edge each time and endangering other people's lives in the process!"

"A game? You think I'm fooling around here? I wouldn't be out here risking my life every damn day just for the thrill of it, Princess!"

"And today you risked all our lives by choosing to fly this rusty old junk-piece!"

"And we're safe now! Is it so hard for you to appreciate the fact that we're alive and maybe even show a little thanks?" he grumbled.

"Thanks?" she almost laughed, "What? Do you expect me to just hop into your bed with gratitude?" she walked away huffily, leaving Han gaping, open-mouthed, after her retreating form.

"I've never seen a female strike you speechless before," Chewie remarked.

"Have you ever met a female like that?" Han retorted, having sufficiently recovered, turning back to the controls, "This is what comes of consorting with Princesses, I tell ya..little hellcat…"

"She was just worried. And she has a quick temper, but so do you. Besides, this week's been rough on her. One of the younger ones got lost on a patrol and by the time they sent someone to look for him, he'd already frozen to death."

"Yeah. Quaid," Han muttered. He'd been fond of the little guy too.

"She's not used to this like we are. I doubt she's even fully recovered after Dodonna and her parents and entire planet…she acts tough and she is…but, she's also a person with emotions and feelings and she deals with them the only way she can," his friend said wisely.

"By taking them out on me?" Han said indignantly.

"By blocking them out. And that just gets her more on edge. Especially with you because you like to purposefully irritate her – don't argue, you know it's true," Chewie said swiftly before he had a chance to protest.

"Are you saying that I purposefully tried to get us all killed today?" he muttered sourly.

"No…but, she's just _used_ to getting mad at you," the Wookiee shrugged, "It's just…habit, I guess, especially when she's strained. And well, I suppose she's comfortable enough with you to get angry and yell and yet know you'll be by her side in a tight fix nonetheless."

"Huh," he grunted pensively.

"And I think she doesn't quite know what to do with you either. You flirt with her, tease her, mock her, irritate her…she's not used to all that."

"She needs a little riling up once in a while…"

"See, that's what I mean? You _like_ to rile her up."

"So? I need some source of amusement to pass my time when I ain't getting shot at," he countered defensively.

"But why _her_?" Chewie prodded knowingly.

Han didn't answer. He'd asked himself the same question too many times and yet, even he didn't know…why her?


	13. Chapter 13

_"You sure you're up for this?" - Han Solo, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens_

* * *

Why him? Leia wondered irritably.

Of all the no-good, insufferable scumbags, she had to go and get rescued by this one. And now he just couldn't seem to leave her alone.

"No!" she barked at him for what had to be the fifth time that morning.

"There's no need to be rude," he replied mildly, "But, even the General agreed it's a good idea, especially if you want to accompany us on the raids. Even if you get kidnapped like last time, at least you'll have a better advantage."

"I know how to use a blaster and that's good enough for me," she huffed, increasing her pace.

"Fine," he said suddenly, although his tone certainly did not broker defeat. "I get it, it must be tough in your position…"

"In my position…?" she chanced a sideways glance at him.

"Yeah, I mean, as a woman, it'll be pretty difficult for you to keep my hands off of me, since we'll be getting up close and personal," he grinned, "I understand, Your Worship."

"Believe me, Captain, keeping my hands off of you is hardly a struggle," she responded with a roll of her eyes, not realizing she'd walked straight into a trap.

"Well, if that's the case, you should have no problem with me teachin' ya how to fight dirty," he replied triumphantly.

* * *

It wasn't really that she was worried about how close she'd be getting to Han…and of course, how much he'd take advantage of their potential proximity. No, it was more that…well, she was tiny. She didn't have much confidence in her strength if it came to tackling a clone that stood double her height. She was used to a blaster, she knew how to shoot and she could shoot well. She was used to it. She liked it.

Trying something this new and unpredictable was certain to be problematic. It would probably result in nothing more than her own humiliation.

After their haphazard rescue of General Liawkman, Rieekan had been quite displeased. While Liawkman had vital information to provide, Rieekan could hardly ignore the danger Leia had been in and had soundly reprimanded she and Han both. He had pointed out that, even with a blaster, Leia was more at risk than anyone else. She didn't know much hand-to-hand combat. And so, Han, annoyingly obliging fellow that he was at the moment, had offered to teach her.

And Rieekan had seemed to think it was a good idea! She would have been more comfortable with anyone else…Luke, even…anyone who wouldn't laugh in her face or chortle behind her back to his comrades when she indubitably slipped up or tripped over her own feet. But Han? This was doomed to be a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she sighed, unzipping her jacket as she walked into the storage compartment of the ship – not the hidden one, but the one he used as a guise for carrying the "legal" goods. Han had shoved some crates and equipment to the sides, leaving a good-sized clean area in the centre. The man himself looked around at her entry, his usual jacket put aside, clad in trousers and a homespun shirt that looked as though it might have once been white, had it not borne witness to too many machine repairs and oil spills. He raked a single assessing glance down her figure and seemed to approve. She'd worn thick leggings and her usual camisole under her snow-gear which she was in the process of removing, attempting to appear nonchalant under his gaze. It wasn't as though she was actually undressing for him, she told herself sternly, but it certainly felt like it, even if he wasn't leering at her.

And it didn't help ease her discomfiture regarding why she was in the storage hull of the ship in the first place.

* * *

Han wasn't entirely sure this was a good idea himself. Contrary to what he'd allowed Leia to assume, this hadn't been his idea, it had been Rieekan's. The interfering busybody seemed to think Han would be the perfect man for the job. It seemed everyone had taken notice of his and Leia's friendship. Or perhaps that wasn't quite the word. Half the base seemed to think they were having some kind of clandestine affair and he'd observed the vast majority watching their daily squabbles with poorly disguised amusement.

Luke was getting a little antsy as well. Even after a year on Hoth and the kid was still making sheep's eyes at Her Royal Highness at every opportunity. Leia didn't encourage him, but she didn't discourage him either. She smiled at him, patted him on the shoulder, much like one might treat a stray puppy. Perhaps that was a tad harsh…she did treat Luke as her friend, she trusted him, liked him…but didn't seem to be attracted to him, from what Han could surmise. Not that he could tell the kid that. He certainly couldn't tell him she was attracted to _him_ either. Luke had already suspected Han's casual flirtations with the Princess to hold more ground than was warranted. And after hearing about Rieekan suggesting Han train Leia, the boy had shot him a warning look, muttering, "You better not get any ideas…"

"I'm not any happier about this than you are, kid," Han had responded dryly. He was just as aware as Luke about how physically close he'd be getting with the Princess – which would pose a number of problems to both his groin and his sense of good judgment – but, he couldn't deny that Rieekan had a point. Leia needed to be better prepared than with simply a blaster by her side. He liked his blaster just as much as she did; it was failsafe and handy in a tough fix. But if needed be, he could fight with his fists too and if the Princess thought she was able to lead a raid, she'd need to be willing to get her little white dress dirty if necessary, trash-compactors notwithstanding.

And so here he was, watching her remove her bulky snow-gear and attempting to maintain a professional outlook. He almost snorted at the thought. If someone had told him two years back that he'd be watching a beautiful woman undress with a "professional outlook", he would've laughed in their face.

"Well?" she stood before him with a discernibly edgy air.

He cleared his throat. Enough wool-gathering. "Now, I know better than anyone you don't like being told what to do." She made a little harrumphing sound which he wisely chose to ignore. "But, you're gonna have to listen to what I tell you to do here. This is my territory and if the General said I've gotta teach ya how to fight, then that's what I'm gonna do."

"And how are you going to teach me?"

"Simple. I teach you the basics and then you fight me."

She looked incredulous, "You're double my height!"

"That's not the issue. Sure, you're not gonna be able to rely on your weight to shove me over, but you're agile and that's just as good. You could take your attacker by surprise if you wanted to, it's not like they'd expect a puny little thing like you to do any serious damage."

"Thanks," she replied wryly.

"So we've gotta focus on your strengths. You're small and you're fast. And with the right manoeuvring, sweetheart, you won't need weight to toss a grown man over. I'm not asking you to become a professional. I just want you to be able to defend yourself."

She sighed in resignation, "Alright. What do I do first?"

He began to circle her, sizing her up as though she was a potential opponent, "Right now, I want you to think: if someone grabbed you from behind, what would be your first instinct?"

"Probably attempt to struggle free," she shrugged.

"No, you're not going to do that. Well, maybe you would've before today, but that's now what you're going to do from now on. You go limp first, wait till they relax their hold and then you kick out with whatever you got, bite down on their hand, knee 'em where it hurts, anything, okay?"

She nodded, "Okay."

"If you haven't been taken by surprise but someone's coming at you directly, you've gotta aim for the pressure points _before_ they get to you. Whatever energy you have, use it. Face, eyes, neck, knees, legs, groin – any strong hit there'll do the trick. And you keep going at it until you have the advantage. And remember you're not fighting fair in a situation like this, you're fighting dirty, Princess."

"Yes, I know," she looked a little annoyed, as though her class held no real weight when it came down to her own survival, which he doubted. She was too noble and self-righteous for her own damn good.

"Use whatever you think'll inflict damage. Obviously you'll use your fists, but also your elbows, head and knees. You're bony, which is helpful. You got edge."

She looked at him as though she wasn't entirely sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

"And use whatever's around you. Anything sharp, solid, heavy enough to knock a man out, you use it. And even though you're small, you can still attempt to use your weight in whatever way you can to give you the advantage."

"That's all well and good in theory. But are the self-defence basics really going to hold up for me if I'm being kidnapped by clones?" she asked with heavy skepticism.

"They might. They might not. We'll just have to see how good I can get you," he allowed his tone to suggest doubt over exactly how good he could get her. If there was one thing he knew about Leia, it was that she never backed down from a challenge.

And if it was a challenge she wanted, it was a challenge she'd get. Now standing behind her, he swiftly moved forward, slinging an arm around her neck, not hard enough to choke her, but enough for her to feel the pressure. Surprising him, she pulled his forearm closer to her collarbone, then grabbed his elbow and swung her entire body around, applying her entire body weight. Caught off-guard by the clearly practiced move, he swore loudly and as she kicked at his shins and scuttled away to the other side of the room.

"Where the hell did you learn that?" he demanded.

She smirked even though she was breathing sharply, "I never said I couldn't defend myself."

"You could have told me," he threw her a glare.

"You never asked," she shrugged, clearly pleased with herself.

"Alright then, let's establish some boundaries," he eyed her warily, "I don't have any protective gear for today, but all I ask is that you attempt to not break any of my bones."

"Attempt?" she repeated in an innocent tone he was by no means fooled by.

"Okay, Princess," he beckoned her to return back to the centre of the room, "let's see how fast you can react…"

* * *

An hour later and they had paused for a few minutes to drink some water and relax. It hadn't been as bad as Leia had feared. She had rather enjoyed taking Han by surprise the first round, she'd definitely gotten the better of him there and the expression on his face had been priceless.

The second time, however, he had been prepared, twisting both of her arms behind her and positioning her in such a way that she hard-pressed to kick out hard enough to hurt. He'd then shown her how to wriggle free from the position and he repeated the manoeuver again, this time, she escaped. She knew he was going easy on her, but the little victory felt good.

On and on they went, with him grabbing her from different angles, never hurting her, but enough to hold her in place, the positions becoming gradually more and more tricky. And he hadn't done anything stupid, like she might have expected him to, like purposefully tripping her up.

"Ready to lay off, Your Highness, and call it a day's work?" he inquired from the other side of the room.

"No, we can go on for some more, if you can take it," she threw back with confidence. He chuckled and she turned to take another gulp of water from her bottle. Before she had even set it back down, she felt a pair of thick arms latch around her middle and lift her into the air, her arms flailing helplessly. He then flung her to the floor, pinning her down with him on top of her.

"Never let down your guard or turn your back on your opponent," he breathed, pinning her arms on either side of her, allowing enough of his weight to hold her body down. It was too close for comfort, having his face that near to hers – he had always grabbed her from behind or by her arms before – and he seemed well aware of her unease, though it appeared he wasn't going to take advantage of it, continuing to speak softly, "Now, listen. If you're ever being held down to the ground like this, you can bring your knee up to the groin, that should do the trick, and then kick out as much as you can until you can escape."

He slowly sat up, straddling her now, but watching her as calmly as though this was an everyday occasion, "If you're on your stomach, you'll need to turn to lie on your back. You probably already know all this?"

She nodded, holding still as her heartbeat began to drum faster. This felt more dangerous than it was, but she could hardly ignore the intimacy of their positions. She wasn't a robot; she was a woman. And even more startling was the realization that he wasn't as unaffected as his blank expression suggested – the hard pressure low on her middle was a telling sign.

"What if I'm holding you down like this? How'll you try to get free?"

She struggled, attempting to hit out at him, wriggle beneath, but all that served to do was have her hands blocked and…well…the wriggling didn't seem to really help either of them. Han was looking a little strained at this point. "Stop."

"What?" she was flushed, breathing hard and it wasn't all entirely from the exertion.

"You won't escape that way, Princess. First of all, you'll have to bring me forward. You're going to do that by bucking your hips hard." She gulped, but refused to avert eye contact, attempting to maintain a neutral expression. He continued, "That's gonna bring me forward and my first instinct'll be to brace my arms out on the ground," he demonstrated, bringing her face back in close proximity with hers, "Then you're immediately gonna put your arms over my shoulders and then lock your hands around my back. You're gonna have to hold me tight – that'll prevent me from hitting you, got it?" She nodded. "Do it."

She wrapped her arms around him, tight enough that even when he attempted to pull back, she held him in place. Unfortunately, that also brought them even closer; she could feel his warm breath on her lips when he spoke next, "Now if I'm gonna try and get the upper hand, I'll have to lean on one arm to shift my weight to one side. Say it's my left arm. You're gonna bend your right leg and hook your foot around my left foot. While you do that, you're gonna hook your right arm around my left arm – the one I'm leaning on – and you're gonna keep it pinned to your side, got it? Then put your left hand at my hip, lift your hips up and lean to the right and flip me over. I'll be vulnerable and then you can hit out at me and then escape. Okay?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to flip you over," she stated skeptically, "You're too big."

"It'll work, trust me," he assured her, leaning on his side, "Try."

She did as he had instructed, then lifted her hips up and attempted to turn them over, but failed. "It's not going to work," she said with gritted teeth. She was far too hot, she wanted to be back out in the base, not in the ship.

"Use your body weight," he urged, but try as she might, she couldn't overturn him, he was far too heavy.

She slumped back irritably, "This is hopeless."

Han made a disgruntled sound, "It'll work, no matter how tiny you are. You're just not picturing this like a real situation. If you were really being pinned down by an enemy, you'd react better…"

"I'm not exactly happy to be pinned down by you either," she muttered.

He grinned slowly, "Ah, so that's the problem, is it? You're enjoying the position far too much."

"Get. Off," she enunciated grimly, her cheeks burning hotter at the insinuation.

"Don't worry, it's understandable," he said in what was obviously meant to be a reassuring tone, but only served to irk her further, "There are a number of fine women who'd attest to the pleasure of being below decks so to speak…"

That was it. Her fury sparked and she flung her hips upwards, bringing all her weight around in one smooth move, punching out at his chest as their positions reversed and scrambling away. Han rubbed his chest, wincing slightly, "Damn, that was some hit, Princess."

She massaged her sore knuckles, eyeing him coolly from where she stood, "You overstepped your bounds."

"Obviously," he drawled, "How else was I to get you to fling me over. You needed incentive."

"You did that on purpose?" she demanded with surprise.

"Mmhm. And it worked. I told ya," he smirked, "You just needed to really want to be rid of me, that's all."

She shook her head at him, although she felt decidedly better now, "Well, clearly that's not too hard, is it?"

"I don't know, Your Worship, I think I might be finally starting to grow on ya," he grinned broadly, then launched out an arm to grab at her ankle, toppling her over. This time, however, she was prepared, kicking out fiercely and then pinning him down from on top with her forearm to his throat.

"Good. You're learning," he said approvingly, "Tomorrow we can move on to less defense and more attack positions. And I'll try and get some protective gear on. Maybe something like that snow-gear of yours. Then you can kick out and punch as hard as you want and it'll also simulate more of the heaviness and the protection the clones' armour would provide."

"That'll do," she agreed. It would also serve as an extra barrier of clothing between them, which she was quite thankful for. She hesitated, then added, "Thank you. For doing this."

"I don't mind. Having a beautiful woman under me is no trouble at all," he quipped wickedly, although this time she didn't frown. She knew him well enough now to know his innuendo was only done to provoke some sort of reaction from her. He teased her, but not maliciously. He didn't prod enough to hurt, just to annoy. And it seemed she was already halfway to understanding exactly what kind of man he was.

There was definitely more to him than money. There was courage and strength and resilience. Vulnerability too, he'd had a troubled past, scars that could never fully heal. She could understand that. She understood pain and she understood determination and the drive to do whatever it took to get something done. She even understood his mask of the indifferent, careless scoundrel because wasn't she wearing the mask of the ice princess too?

But what she didn't understand was the heat and the attraction and the sort of restlessness that gnawed at her from the inside. She didn't need it, didn't want it and she certainly didn't prefer it directed at him of all people. And not understanding something made her afraid. She liked being in charge, knowing what she was doing. But Han seemed to possess an uncanny ability to turn everything upside down, exposing her rawest vulnerabilities and drawing that control away from her, inch by inch.

And she wasn't sure if she was up for that at all.


	14. Chapter 14

" _Still, she's got a lot of spirit…" – Han Solo, Episode IV: A New Hope_

* * *

Han watched Leia direct a squadron from where he stood at the back, half-hidden in the shadows. It was attractive, watching her take charge like this. She exuded confidence, with that gleam of passion in her eyes for what she believed in. No wonder all the men were willing to go out and risk their lives for their cause – Leia was a born leader. She knew what she was doing and she was good at it too. He'd only ever seen that self-assurance falter a few rare times. When she was under extreme emotional duress and when…well, when she was doing something she was new to. She wasn't fond of taking big risks, she liked being in charge and she certainly idn't enjoy relying on others.

Under his guidance in the past weeks, she'd managed to impress him. Even if she had lacked a bit of perseverance in the beginning, she sure as hell was making up for it now. She refused to back down from any challenge he threw at her and was steadily becoming quite the fighter. He liked that about her. He liked her spirit.

And Luke had noticed.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Leia lately," the boy had muttered shiftily.

"It ain't my fault Rieekan's made me take the Princess up to task," Han had retorted offhandedly, "I'm just as happy about the whole situation as she is."

"You can't hide from me, Han," Luke told him seriously, "You like her."

"Kid, if there's one thing I've learned and held to heart from my smuggling days, it's never to mix business with pleasure. Remember that. It might do you some good, as well. Sure, I flirt with Her Worship, I flirt with all the ladies."

"Yeah, but-"

"Don't worry yourself. I don't plan on breaking any hearts – in fact, I rather doubt she has one," he joked, ruffling Luke's hair, "Might just be a little heart-shaped ice cube in there."

Luke had eased up then, with a little chuckle, "She's not that cold, Han, she's just nice to everyone else but you. And she's got more sense than to allow her heart to get broken by you."

Han had realized then, that perhaps Luke had not been as jealous, as much as feeling protective about Her Highness. The kid had a good heart and Leia was his friend – he was attracted to her, yes, but beyond that, he cared about her own feelings more than anything else. Which was good, in a way, because it meant Han didn't have to feel so guilty over his own attraction towards her.

Now, as he realized he was staring at her, he swiftly turned around and walked in the opposite direction. If he wasn't careful, he'd be turning into some moonstruck oaf. It was one thing to admire her for her leadership – quite another to make sheep's eyes at her while she was at it. Han Solo wasn't known for making sheep's eyes at anyone. Women came to _him_ , not the other way around.

* * *

Leia sighed in resignation at the sound of the familiar voice trailing behind her, "I hope you know what you're doing. We wouldn't wanna be surprised by a wampa."

They were out on a round with their tauntauns in the morning. She appreciated the crisp bracing air outside, even if the brightness of the sunlight and the snow could be a little jarring. Something had been jamming their communicators and signal, so she and a few of the men had decided to go out and search for the cause. There were a number of possible stations, so they'd split up and Han had evidently decided he was her "partner" for the day.

"I know what I'm doing, Captain, not to worry," she replied dryly as a sudden sharp gust of wind hit her, "And if a wampa attacks, maybe I'll get to practice what you've taught me."

He chuckled, "I doubt it'll come to that. You could probably just shoot him one of your freezing glares and he'd cower in fear."

"Pity the same tactics don't work on you."

"I'm made of tougher stuff than a giant furball."

She liked this sort of ease they'd established between them. It was…well…refreshing to have a light-hearted conversation with someone who didn't treat her like she was up on a pedestal. While he could certainly be annoying, moments like these were comfortable. It was a far different story when he'd been training her. Despite more inches of protective material between them, it was still disconcerting to have him all around her, being pinned to the floor or lifted up effortlessly over his head. Now, however, she didn't feel the need to run as far as possible in the opposite direction, she didn't mind the companionship at all.

"You're a man," she rejoined with a light scoff.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clearly, his dignity had been wounded.

"It means you're of a single breed. Easily offended, coupled with overwhelming urges to make impulsive displays of bravado…I can deal with you…"

"Oh, can you?" he sounded amused, "And what if I told you, you're just a woman? Quick-tempered, slow to forgive the tiniest of mistakes and easily flustered by the proximity of a handsome, strapping man in his prime, such as myself?"

"I'd say you were deluded," she replied sweetly.

"Is that a challenge, Your Worship?" she could hear the cocky smirk in his voice and knew trouble was drawing near.

"It's not a challenge, it's a fact, laser-brain," countering one of his nicknames for her with one for him.

"We'll see about that…" he replied and she began to seriously reconsider the sense in pretending she wasn't attracted to him.

"Here, we're here," she stopped, pointing ahead, "The wire's been snapped." She hopped carefully off her tauntaun and trudged forward through the snow.

"Probably a wampa," Han muttered, striding ahead of her, looking around warily, "There aren't any track marks so it's been a while since it's done this. Hopefully it won't reappear any time soon."

She went back to her tauntaun to retrieve her pack, "You keep look-out, while I fix this."

"Fine by me," he patted his tauntaun. She concentrated on fixing the wire; it was difficult with her gloves on, but it was far too cold to remove them.

"So, Your Worship…" Han broke the quiet with a casual tone, "What do you think you'll do when the war's over?"

"Who knows when that'll be?" she replied with a shrug. In fact, she hadn't really thought about it. She'd dedicated her life to this…what would it be like to have peace at last?

"No one. But, if the war does end…what would you do then?"

"I guess…work on rehabilitating my people? We'd need to search for a new planet with the rest of the survivors and try to rebuild what we've lost."

"That'd include repopulating as well, I s'pose."

She stopped, frowning, "Yes." She hadn't thought of that, but she supposed it would be her duty to marry some Alderaanian male. Unless they were in dire financial straits and then she'd probably need to marry someone rich. She didn't have much of a choice in either matter and that bothered her. She enjoyed her freedom here, she didn't want to be tied down by any man. That hardly mattered now, she shook her head, getting back to work and queried, "How about you, Captain? What will you do? I don't exactly see you as the settling-down type."

He snorted at the idea and then said, "I'll do what I've always done."

"Smuggling?"

"Living."

It made sense. He wasn't burdened with any duties or obligations to anyone, he could do whatever he wanted. It made her wistful, knowing she could never have that future…and she also felt a surprising pang of regret, knowing that she wouldn't have him around anymore. Difficult as it was to admit, even to herself.

She reattached the wire, "All done."

"About time, I was worried we'd be frozen into-" A high-pitched squeal from the tauntauns interrupted him and he turned around warily, "Something's spooked them."

"I don't see anything-"

"Get over here!" he hit the tauntauns' rears, forcing them to move away and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind a large snowbank. She shivered, despite the warmth of him next to her; it was getting colder. It was a smart move of his, pushing the tauntauns away. If they were lucky, the wampa or whatever creature it was, would go after the animals instead, especially with their strong, distinctive odour.

"How long do we have to wait?" she whispered.

"At least until a few minutes after we hear the screams," he replied grimly.

* * *

If Han had admired her poise while addressing the rebels, it was nothing compared to his appreciation for her levelheadedness now. He had teased her for being "just a woman" but in reality, she wasn't. Not at all. Most women he had known would have been trembling with fear, crying, even bemoaning their fate…but Leia did none of these things. At his blunt reply to her question, she simply nodded and that was that. Even when the shrill screams of the tauntauns being eaten alive pierced the silence, she didn't flinch.

"The communicators should work now," she whispered, drawing her forearm close to her mouth and pulling back the cover, "Hello? This is Princess Leia. Hello?"

A slight crackling of static when a voice answered, "Princess? You've fixed the-"

"Yes, but Captain Solo and I have lost our tauntauns, there's a wampa nearby. You'll need to send a starfighter – we're too far out to make it back on foot."

"We're tracking your location right now…okay, got it," the man replied.

Leia closed her communicator with an almost inaudible sigh of relief – the first sign of concern for their fate he'd seen from her. "They're coming for us."

"Good, good," he leaned back, "They better get here before the wampa does. It might still be hungry."

"The optimism in your tone makes me hopeful," she replied wryly and then shivered.

"Cold?"

"I'm fine."

"Your nose is turning blue."

"I'll live."

"Alright," a pause and then, "You know, it'd be helpful if you showed some sign of freezing to death other than the physical ones because being taxed with murdering Princesses out in the barren wilderness isn't exactly on my to-do list."

She smiled, amused, "What is, then?"

"Don't evade my point. Just because you think you can withstand any sort of-"

"I'm afraid of small, enclosed spaces, not big, open ones."

He realized his case was lost, there was no way she'd admit she was turning into a literal ice princess for him to snuggle up to her, so he'd just have to do it himself. "Get over here," he grunted, putting an arm around her.

"I said I wasn't c-cold," she protested, though she didn't move away.

"Well, I am," he retorted, "And I ain't planning to die on some godforsaken ice planet." He rubbed her arm, "You're shaking, you know that, right? Or are you planning on telling me that's not from the cold, it's from the proximity of the dashing man on your right?"

She chuckled, "If it comes down to that, yes, I'm cold."

"Knew I'd make you see reason," he settled her more comfortably against him, she was half in his lap, but at that point she was evidently too cold to resist. She was so small, even bundled up in all that snow-gear and thick pants. It made him feel oddly protective. He wasn't used to feeling that way over a woman.

She was too quiet. "Hey, don't fall asleep now," he shook her slightly.

"I'm not sleeping," she replied with exasperation.

"Guess I've gotten used to you yelling at me all the time. The silence is a bit unsettling."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were actually worried about me."

"The cold's making you hallucinate, Princess," he grinned.

"That must be it. If I'm allowing you to hold me, there must be something amiss."

He liked the friendly rapport. They'd come to understand each other, but too often they ended up arguing over some matter, too often the air between them crackled with tense awareness. Now, however, the banter was light and good-natured – he didn't feel like he wanted to pin her against the ground and kiss her either, he merely enjoyed holding her like this. It made him feel content, which was strange. He'd never been a cuddly sort of lover. Chewie would roar with laughter and taunt him relentlessly until his dying day if he could see him now.

He wasn't doing this out of enjoyment, he sternly told himself, he was doing this for their mutual survival, that's what it was.

"I can see you're not flustered by my closeness, _yet_ ," he said.

"I'm hardly flustered by a man holding me, Captain," there was no defensiveness in her tone, only slight amusement.

"I plan to take you up on your challenge, you know. We'll see how long you last before you succumb to my charms."

"That kind of cockiness is what's gonna get you killed on the battlefield, flyboy."

Somewhere along the line, they had crossed from amiable repartee to flat-out flirtation and he knew they were both treading dangerous territory here.

"It's never failed me yet," he smirked.

"One day it will. And I just hope I'm there to see it," she burrowed her face into her fur-lined hood, the action peculiarly endearing.

"You hope you'll be the cause of it, you mean," he snorted. He knew her too well.

"It's about time a woman put you in your place."

"My place?"

"You're too used to getting all the female attention."

"Ah, you've noticed."

"I don't miss the women shooting daggers at me with their eyes when we go off for a training session, if that's what you mean."

"And what do you think I have to deal with from the men? They revere you," he pointed out, "If I ever did you any wrong, I'd have half the encampment at my throat."

"You think so?" he could hear the satisfied pride in her tone.

"Look who's used to all the attention now?" he retorted.

"It's not _that_ kind of attention. I'm just a good leader."

"Oh, it's not just your leadership qualities they admire-" he stopped himself before he went too far.

"Do enlighten me, Captain."

"Somehow, I don't think your ego needs more inflation."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" she teased and he smiled.

The whirring sound of a starfighter made them both look up. "Looks like they found us before the wampa did," Leia said cheerfully, getting up.

He said nothing, though he felt a small twinge of regret. The moment was gone, though maybe it was a good thing. He wasn't used to feeling protective or, or… _cuddly_. And certainly not with the Princess. Warm, fuzzy emotions like that could only signal trouble.

And when had he ever been one to invite trouble?

Perhaps that question was better left unanswered.

 **A/N: So I struggled a bit with writing this chapter, probably because I'm so used to writing our favourite duo either arguing, talking things out or dealing with all that simmering tension ;) It was a lot different, writing something more sweet and light - but that's what I was going for because I feel like somewhere along the line, Han would have realized Leia was different from all the other women he'd been attracted to before and his own response to her would have been different as well. We've seen the caring/sweet side of him in ESB in Cloud City and in ROTJ at the end where he holds her by the fire and I wanted to bring out a little of that here. We've seen a softer side to Leia as well, especially in the third film, and I like to think they weren't continuously bickering all throughout those three years between ANH and ESB. Anyway, thank you for the response I've gotten to this fic, it really means a lot 3 I'm looking forward to reading what you guys think of this chapter! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

_"_ _I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight." – Han Solo, Star Wars: Episode V_

* * *

Leia highly regretted ever challenging Han Solo to a battle of wills. Never mind that she'd been half-frozen at the time, though that had clearly left an effect to her wits.

He was a pain in the ass even when he wasn't attempting to flirt with her and now he wasn't even flirting. No. If he had been any other man, Leia would've said he was being nice. All the offers of help had put her on her guard from the beginning of the week. And it hadn't taken her long to confirm her suspicions hadn't been unfounded.

Han Solo was trying to fluster her. And it was working.

It had begun the day following the wampa attack. She had been digging out old files on one of their informers – the base had been suspecting a leak and the most likely suspect was Lorna Phalk – when Han had appeared out of nowhere in her office and asked if she needed any help. She had been about to refuse when he strode over to her table and mentioned that he'd briefly "worked" with the woman before. So she had shrugged and agreed, questioning him for any important details and adding them to her holographic database. As she was automatically moving the slides with her finger, she was so engrossed with attempting to search for some sort of link, that she failed to recognize Han moving behind her until it was too late.

He wasn't even standing _that_ close, just enough that his chest brushed her head and she could feel his heat radiating along her back, reminding her of the time when he'd slyly pulled the blaster from her holster from behind her. To all appearances, it would seem as though he was merely viewing the logs for the same purposes she was. He reached out a hand to move a slide back, his arm brushing her shoulder and she snapped, "Stop that."

"Stop what?" he asked mildly. Damn him, he knew exactly what she was talking about.

She slapped his hand away, "You're not supposed to be looking through this, I am."

"I thought we agreed I was going to help?" he dropped his hand and she turned around to face him, taking a step back, then inwardly cursing when her back hit the table. His eyes flickered to the table and she could've sworn he almost smirked.

"Yes, we did. But you need to stand behind the table. Over there. You're not supposed to be viewing the logs."

"But what if I can link something important?" he inquired innocently, "Don't tell me after all this time, you still can't trust me?"

"You haven't even clearly given me or the General a statement that you'll be staying with us for good," she reminded him, "Obviously I can't take that risk."

He leaned in close, "Risk what?" – making it extremely clear what he believed her to be afraid of risking, before he calmly walked away to the other side of the desk and lounged back in a chair.

And since then, there had been many similar episodes – he didn't do anything to warrant panic, he just simply invaded her space as he always had. Yet, this time, he did so with the purpose to provoke not irritation, but some sign that she was attracted to him. Little things…his arm brushing hers, him leaning over her to grab something…things that shouldn't have the capacity to bother her, but they did. The latest incident had involved her almost tripping and falling face-first into the snow, if he had not caught and steadied her, his hand lingering a little long at her waist. Not to mention their little practice defense sessions, in which she'd always end up being either under him or on top, and endure his impudent references to sexual positions in the process.

And the problem was that if she did give him a reaction – be it a sharp rebuke or a slap of the hand, he'd take it as him having the ability to fluster her with his proximity. Which was what was happening, but he certainly needn't know that, she groused. So, she put up with all the… _closeness_ …with all the outward patience of a saint, even if her body wasn't exactly reacting like one.

And now as she sat in the forward hold with him and Luke and Chewie – thankfully on his opposite – having downed a small cup of his ale (she'd learned well from prior experience), she calmly met his gaze and conversed with him as though none of it had occurred and she was perfectly unaffected. And maybe something about her impassive appearance bothered him because he grinned at Luke, clapping him on the back and said, "Her Highness over here keeps pestering me about whether I'm staying for good or not. What d'you make of that, kid?"

Luke rolled his eyes while Leia shot Han a glower. She hadn't been _pestering_ him – well, not exactly. She just wanted a straight answer from him, that was all. He'd been on the base for almost two years now, it was about time he came to a decision. She didn't like uncertainties, she liked consistency and even though Han had been steadily demonstrating his support and courage with every mission, she still had a niggling doubt over his readiness to stay for as long as it took and _that_ bothered her.

"And you keep pestering me for a pay rise," she retorted, "But that's nothing new."

"Maybe, you should just straight-up ask me to stay because you want me to?" he suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows, "I know it'll be hard not having a gorgeous guy like me around in your vicinity anymore…"

"Please. Your pretty face might get you a lot of things, but you should know by now it doesn't work on me."

"No?" he grinned, turning to Luke, "Her Worship and I've been having a little game – a challenge of sorts. She doesn't think she could ever possibly be attracted to me and I'm gonna prove her wrong."

"Good luck with that," Luke snorted and Leia beamed at him in appreciation, even while Han's announcement rankled. Possibly because she already knew she was attracted to him, even if she by no means wanted him to know it too.

"Oh, just watch me," Han drawled calmly, setting his feet up on the table, folding his arms behind his head, "I'll have her wrapped around my…" Leia's eyes widened as he paused and he smirked at her, before continuing, "finger by the end of the month."

Blast him. He knew exactly what she'd been thinking about – well, what was she supposed to think after that little pause and wicked grin? This was _Han Solo_ they were talking about and she wasn't innocent. Her cheeks had flushed red and with her wretched porcelain-pale skin, there was no hiding it. And dammit, if he knew she'd been _thinking_ about it, he'd definitely found a way to breach her defences.

* * *

"The Princess is the one who has you wrapped around her little finger," Chewie chuckled a few days later after Han returned to Falcon, grumbling about how Leia was an "unemotional, unfeeling little glacier of a woman".

" _Me_?" Han swivelled around to look at his friend with self-righteous shock, "I'm not the one who-"

"Just because she doesn't respond to your "charms", that doesn't mean that'll hold for another man," Chewie shrugged, watching as Han turned from indignant to furious. "Ah, there it is."

"There _what_ is?" Han groused.

"You're jealous," the Wookie stated smugly.

"Jealous of who?" Han laughed, after the initial shock had rendered him momentarily speechless. He didn't get jealous. The notion itself was ludicrous.

"Not of anyone, yet. You're jealous of the idea of Leia being attracted to another man," Chewie said simply.

"That would suggest that I actually had feelings for the little hellcat," Han said dryly.

"Maybe you should think about what you're doing and how you're reacting," his friend suggested, "Is this little "challenge" of yours just to get up her skin, or is it because of something else?"

Han, currently occupied with a wrench placed between his teeth, could only growl something incoherent in response.

He wouldn't have thought much over Chewie's words, he _never_ got emotionally attached, cuddling and protective feelings notwithstanding, he could write those off as anomalies. But it did trouble him that his friend knew him better than anyone else and he'd never even asked if Han had feelings for a woman before Leia. He'd labelled Leia trouble before without dwelling much on what that meant – but maybe it meant that he was at risk of falling for her, not just body and mind, but heart, too. All that unconditional, accepting-each-other-for-your-flaws-and-strengths mush. He'd thought he was immune…but he knew that there was something off when he not only wanted to make love to a woman, but he was actually fond of her too.

Whatever it was, he could handle it. He wasn't giving up. Because if there was one thing he was good at, it was wriggling his way out of tight corners. And he never backed down for a challenge.

Unfortunately, neither did Her Worship.

He knew his limits and he abided by them, but even though he did his best to get under her skin, she remained stoic and neutral; she stood her ground like the fighter she was.

And then…she fought back.

* * *

Leia had enough. A few more of days of this and she'd implode. There was only so much of the in-her-face-marvellous-yet-aggravating-male-specimen she could take. And the worst part was, he didn't do anything she could properly reprimand him for. The most compromising positions they'd been in were during her training sessions and she could hardly tell him off for those. It didn't matter if he murmured wickedly appealing things in her ear as he held her from behind with a strong arm wrapped around her waist, or allowed his eyes to trace the shape of her lips while she was straddling him because he didn't act on those impulses. And if she flinched or pushed away or snapped at him…well, that'd be a sure sign of concession on her part.

But, then Chewie gave her an idea, blessed Wookie that he was. She'd been discussing counterattacks with him, while Han stood as translator as he fixed up something in his ship, when Chewbacca had suggested using the enemy's tactics against them. And that gave her a delightfully ingenious idea.

Han's shadow was cast over the table as he stood behind her, letting his arm rest around the edge of her chair. She knew this tactic of his well by now. He'd let his fingers brush against the back of her neck every so often, causing her hairs to stand on end. He wouldn't do it continuously, but he'd find an odd sort of rhythm, casual enough to be mistaken for being accidental, though she knew better.

This time she leaned into his touch, humming lightly under her breath and she felt him pause.

"Luke, do you mind passing me that glass of water?" she asked nonchalantly, not looking in Han's direction.

"Sure," Luke handed it to her and she finished it before setting it down on the table and rose from her seat to scrutinize the Captain's handiwork with the control panel. "You're sure this isn't going to backfire on you last minute?" she inquired doubtfully; she could always depend on annoying him with casting aspersions on either his ship or his repairs. If Han ever loved a thing, it was the Falcon.

"Sure?" he repeated, "I repaired it myself, so it'll obviously work just as good as if it were new," he settled into her now-unoccupied chair with a content sigh, "My ship's a lot hardier than you give her credit for, Princess. Even Luke knows that now, don't ya, kid?"

"She's fast, I'll give her that," Luke admitted with a barely-stifled yawn. They were all tired out from the incessant raids, scouting and rescue missions.

"And I suppose we should all take into consideration you've stayed with her for far longer than you would with a woman," Leia added wryly.

"She's a keeper. She doesn't nag or complain or _pester_ ," he chuckled with a wink in Luke's direction, "Unlike certain females who just can't admit to _why_ they like to pester."

"I know you seem to be misguidedly harbouring delusions of me actually _desiring_ your presence on this base," she replied lightly, moving over to him and perching on the armrest, dangling her feet as they didn't quite reach the floor, "But Captain, I assure you, my interest is purely professional. You're an excellent pilot, a good leader and quite handy," she lowered her eyes and paused, while Luke spluttered, "with a blaster," she reached down and brushed the back of her fingers against Han's lower abdomen, satisfied when his stomach muscles clenched in response and deftly pulled out his blaster pistol from its holster, bring her eyes back to his confidently. He looked positively flabbergasted and maybe even slightly aroused as he stared at her. She ran a finger along the edge, still holding his gaze boldly, knowing exactly what was going through his head as his Adam's apple bobbed with his gulp.

And then the unthinkable happened. He tore his gaze away and abruptly rose from the chair, causing her to fall off, hitting the floor.

"Leia!" Luke exclaimed, but she merely laughed, still sprawled on the floor, as Han leaned against the wall, grimly looking away with his arms folder.

She couldn't believe it – _she_ had managed to fluster _him_.

"I win."

* * *

Han studiously avoided Leia's gaze even she exploded into a fit of giggles before him. He had gotten up, before he did something stupid and kissed that smug little expression off her beautiful face, and had unknowingly forfeited their game in the process anyway. He hadn't expected her to react as she did now either. He'd assumed she'd pick herself up off the floor with all her Princessly dignity and leave, but she only laughed with pure mirth and he was suddenly reminded of how young she really was. Beneath all the brisk and taciturn orders, some long-buried childish glee had suddenly surfaced. A small reluctant smile curved his lips as he heard her break her fit only to toss out, "I win," and he turned to face her. She looked her age now, she looked as young as Luke and just as gentle, just as soft and sweet, with her worries cast aside and that brilliant smile lighting up her entire little face.

And somehow that bright, untroubled smile affected him more than all her little carnal implications in that lowered throaty purr with those hooded eyes and idle touches. Maybe because that had been a game, deliberately designed to throw him off guard, and this was _real_.

And it gave him pause, as the slow realization dawned upon him, both frightening him and surprising him in equal measures…that Chewie had been right after all.


	16. Chapter 16

_"_ _You think a princess and a guy like me…?" – Han Solo, Episode IV: A New Hope_

* * *

"I told you," Chewie said smugly, folding his furry arms behind his head.

"No need to be so satisfied about it," Han muttered with a glare, "It's not as though I _wanted_ this…whatever this is…"

"Feelings," Chewie supplied helpfully.

Han winced at the word, "I wouldn't say –" Chewie cut him off with an incredulous snort and he sighed, "Alright. _Feelings_. I have feelings for the Princess and I don't know what the hell to do with them."

"You can't exactly store them away like illegal goods," his friend reasoned.

"No, no I can't…but there's no way on this ice hell I'm gonna be telling her about them. She doesn't even _like_ me."

"I'd say she's gotten used to you."

"That's not the same thing, she can't stand being in the same room as me."

"That's not true. She fights with you, but that's understandable, you're an ass."

"Thanks, thanks."

"Anytime."

Han sighed, leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. Well, this was a fine mess he'd gotten himself into. It was all fine and dandy when you were a carefree smuggler who cared about nothing and no one. But somehow in the past two years, he'd managed to not only get involved in a dangerous crusade against the Empire, he'd managed to fall for an uptight Princess as well. Politics and women. Never a good combination.

Chewie uncorked a bottle of ale, handing it to him sympathetically, "It was the same for me when I realized I was in love with Malla…"

"I'm not in love," Han rolled his eyes with an exaggerated shudder.

"No, I s'pose that'd be taking it a little far," Chewie agreed, "But you do have a…ah…soft spot for the Princess…"

"Or hard, depending on perspective."

"But, it's not just lust, is it? That's the thing."

"I can deal with sexual frustration, so no, unfortunately, it's not just that."

"You haven't been with any other women either since we got here, too."

"There'd be no point in it."

"Hmm." The two friends fell into silence, sipping their ale pensively.

* * *

Leia inwardly congratulated herself. She wasn't sure what she'd done exactly, but it seemed as though she'd finally gotten rid of Han Solo.

Oh, he was still around. But he didn't constantly pester her or bring up foul innuendo at every chance he got. In fact, he seemed rather subdued all around.

Part of her though…a very small part of her…missed him. Initially, in the first few days, she'd rejoiced…but now, well, it seemed a little quiet without his constant presence. Was he avoiding her? Curiosity warred with pride. If he was, she certainly wasn't about to seek him out herself. But then she began to wonder if it was because he was considering leaving. And that didn't sit too well with her. Not one bit.

She didn't want to ask Rieekan if he knew…she rather suspected the man believed there was more to her and Han's relationship than friendship…and if she asked Luke or Chewbacca, they would probably wonder as well. So she found herself determinedly striding towards the _Falcon_ one afternoon, up the already outstretched ramp, pulling off her jacket as she searched for the Captain.

"Han?" she called out, checking his cabin and the main hull. She frowned, raising her voice considerably louder, " _Han!_ "

An unexpected bang and a yelp came from somewhere to her right. She spun around, but there was nothing. "Han?"

"I'm down here, Princess."

She looked down and discovered the loose tile in the floor…no doubt leading into the illegal smuggling compartments. "I'd like to speak with you," she stated.

"I'm a little…uh…busy at the moment," he said, his voice a little muffled; he probably had a wrench between his teeth or something like that.

She sighed in resignation, climbing down into the dark, cramped space, "What are you doing?"

He was on his back, wrench between his teeth, prying at something behind a tile, "I'm lookin' for somethin'." He cursed as it appeared that whatever he was looking for wasn't there and then spat out the wrench, sitting up to face her. "I know I hid it behind one of these tiles…"

"You forgot?" she said, amused, "It better not be something illegal, Captain…"

He looked aggrieved, "Now why would you ever accuse me of something like that?" he slid the tile back in place and slid further down to work at the next.

She watched him for a moment, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his arms dirty with some sort of grease, the only sound in the little space was the sharp little noises of metal scraping against metal. "I don't s'pose you came down here to help?" he said.

"Ah, no, I can't say I did," she cleared her throat, folding her legs in what she hoped was a more dignified position and began, "I came here to ask you if you've made your decision, yet. If you're ready to fully commit yourself to the Alliance."

He said nothing.

"It's been two years, Han," she reminded him, "You've had plenty of time to think over it."

"I know." He was quiet and calm and that worried her.

"So you've come to a decision, then?"

He went back to working at the tile and she made a frustrated sound under her breath, tugging at his boot and pulling him back, so he'd be forced to look at her. " _Han_."

"Princess," he sighed, sitting back up, "What do you want me to say?"

She went a little cold inside, "I want you to give me a definite answer. Are you staying or are you not?"

"I don't know."

"You've clearly been considering leaving, you've been avoiding me and you won't even look me in the eye now," she muttered, "What's going on?"

"Well, I can't find the thing I lost somewhere here and then you came down here wailing my name like a banshee and spooked me enough to bang my head against this thing," he motioned vaguely, "It's no wonder my eyes can't focus on you properly with my head spinning."

"You poor thing," she replied dryly, not buying it, "Would you like me to escort you to medbay?"

"I'll manage," he waved her off, but she'd had enough. She put a small hand at his arm, "Han. It's a simple question: do you want to leave?"

"One month."

"What?"

"Give me a month to decide and I'll give you an answer by then," he said quietly.

"Oh. Okay," she nodded, first hesitant, then brisk, "I'll expect a proper answer, you won't be able to fend me off with excuses."

"I haven't been able to fend you off with anything," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" she looked indignant.

"Leia, why are you here?"

The use of her name took her just as aback as the question itself. "To ask you if you were considering leaving," she said slowly.

"You could've demanded an answer from up there," he indicated, "rather than coming down here."

"I wanted to see your face. When I'm talking to you, I mean. I'd rather not speak to empty air," she reasoned.

"You don't like small, enclosed spaces."

She frowned, realizing the little smuggling compartment hadn't bothered her, she'd scarcely thought before hopping down… "It's not entirely closed off; I'm sitting right under the opening."

The fact bothered her still, though. Normally, in such a space, she'd begin to feel suffocated. But she'd barely noticed now, she was…comfortable.

"You're a Princess. And you're sitting in an illegal smuggling compartment with a former smuggler," he ticked off the details on his fingers, watching her closely.

"I thought you'd have realized by now that I don't adhere to the supposed rules of royalty you seem to think I must follow," she rolled her eyes, setting her jacket down beside her. It was even warmer down in the compartment than it was in the main hull of the ship.

"Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing right now?"

"I thought I'd take a little break to come talk to you," she decided to be frank. "You're the one who told me I can't be holed up in my office doing work all day…"

"So, you came here to have "fun"?" he grinned and all at once the atmosphere went back to light and teasing and normal.

"If you call sitting in an ex-smuggler's illegal smuggling compartment fun," she retorted amicably.

"I can think of a few fun ideas," he grinned wickedly, then took her by surprise, swiping his finger on her nose.

"What was that for?" she grumbled, knowing very well he'd left a smudge of grease.

"Getting you into the spirit of fun. Now maybe you can help me find the thing I lost," he handed her a wrench.

"It would help if I knew what this "thing" was, precisely."

"You'll know it when you see it," he chuckled, "Let me show you what to do."

She didn't protest, sidling to him and leaning back to view how he slid back the panels and worked at the edges. "Don't cut yourself on the sharp edges, though."

"I'll endeavor not to," she nodded and he slid down to work on the next panel, lifting his head every now and then to observe her progress. "Well, would ya look at that. I've made a regular smuggler out of you, Princess."

"I'm not entirely sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

* * *

After about half an hour, Han heard her sharp intake of breath. Had she cut herself? "Princess?"

"Han…where did you get this from?" her voice quivered and he knew she'd found it. The thing.

It had been slightly uncomfortable being in a small enclosed space with her and not reaching out to kiss her on instinct, but he knew very well that would be a mistake and so he'd decided if she was going to stay there, she'd might as well make herself useful. After all, the thing was for her.

He carefully inched over to her on his hands and knees, catching sight of it, cradled delicately in her small hands. It was a polished slab of crystalized rock from Alderaan, glinting different shades of green even in the dim light afforded by the opening in the floor above. "I won it some years back in a game of Sabbacc," he shrugged, "I was tricked into believing it was worth a lot of money, but it wasn't. I kept it anyway, though…stored it in one of the false panels, just in case, and I remembered I had it recently, when I was rummaging through here. I thought I'd dig it up for you for your birthday or something, you'd probably appreciate it a lot more than me, but I had no idea when your birthday was and then –"

He was cut off by her little body colliding into his. He staggered back, one hand braced on the floor behind, just to prevent himself by falling backwards and taking her down with him, she'd thrown herself at him with such force. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her face was buried in his chest. She wasn't crying, he didn't think she was, but she was breathing in sharp little gasps and she was holding onto him so tightly he didn't have the heart to let go. So he put his arms around her, rubbing small circles on her back in what he hoped was a soothing, friendly gesture. Even if the position they were in was hardly friendly.

Maybe he was a bastard for being so aware of her when she was clearly feeling vulnerable, but he couldn't help it. She was straddling him, though she probably hadn't realized it yet and she was pressed up against him _everywhere_. He could feel her heart beating in her chest with how close she was and it was doing weird, jerky things to his own.

"It's alright," he murmured, his hand in her hair now, which was coming a little undone in its bun, soft and silky underneath his rough, callused fingers.

She's not meant for the likes of you, he told himself sternly, but something in him wouldn't listen, refused to let go of her, even as her head rose up and she looked up at him with bright, wide eyes. Those eyes weren't shuttered now, they were open, trusting, raw and that shattered him.

"Thank you," she said softly and then lifted her head up to kiss his cheek, her lips gently lingering, before she ducked her head down and slowly disentangled her limbs from around him, climbing out of the little tunnel and into the light and disappearing.

He groaned, leaning his head against the wall, even as the memory of her pressed against him and her innocent kiss burned into his mind.

* * *

Leia curled up into a ball on her bed, the Alderaan crystal cradled in her lap. She felt confused, conflicted, happy, despondent, lost.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she gazed down at the last piece of her home that lay in her hands. She hadn't expected that from Han. She hadn't been fooled by the excuses, the story, the casual tone…he hadn't needed to give this to her. Even if it hadn't been worth much when he'd won it, it would definitely be worth very much now. He could've kept it, sold it, bargained with it…but he didn't.

Just like he didn't have to spend so much time searching for it on his hands and knees during what precious free time he had. But he had done it all for her and that left her inexplicably happy for some odd reason. And that little warm glow of happiness inside terrified her. Because happiness could be taken away just as quickly as it was given.

She hadn't thought, she hadn't given a split second's hesitation before throwing herself at him. She hadn't thought twice about kissing his cheek either, even though she knew it wouldn't feel as safe as kissing Luke would. Han _wasn't_ safe, wasn't constant. Just like happiness wasn't. It was fleeting, fickle, volatile, just like he was. And she couldn't depend on him because she couldn't know if he would ever be a permanent thing in her life.

She knew now why she hadn't feel afraid or uncomfortable in the smuggling compartment. It had been because of him. He helped her forget…and yet, remember, too. And that confused her, just like he did.

She'd given him a month to make a decision, but she couldn't allow herself to hope he'd make the right one. He could choose to leave just as easily as he could choose to stay.

She just wasn't sure which decision terrified her more.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm so sorry, I know it's been quite a while since I've lasted posted a chapter! I just ended up getting busy with different things, I was sick for a couple weeks and writer's block had hit me pretty hard. I had this week off so I took some time to just sit down and think things out clearly and figure out where I'm taking this up till ESB. To answer a reader's question - yes, I will probably be writing into the other two movies as well :)**

 **Thanks for being patient with me!**


	17. Chapter 17

_"You're trembling." – Han Solo, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back_

* * *

Han lounged back on the bench beside Luke and Chewie as General Rieekan barked out instructions and orders for the fleets he'd be sending out for a rescue mission on Dantooine. Leia stood at his side, scanning the groups of rebels with a critical eye.

"Probably be us four again," Luke murmured, nudging Han. They usually accompanied Leia as a team when she was allowed to take lead in missions.

"Unless Rieekan's got other plans for you," Han nodded; occasionally, Luke took one of the starfighters instead because of his remarkable piloting.

"I doubt it. He doesn't trust putting the Princess solely in your hands," Luke teased lightly.

Han pretended to look wounded, "Out of the two of us, it's clear I'm the responsible one."

His friend snorted, "I'm sure the General will agree after you showed up to the last awards ceremony, drunk."

"I didn't mean to!" Han protested feebly, "I was just…ah…having an early celebration of my own…"

Luke shook his head, grinning, "The only reason he hasn't kicked you out yet is because of how useful you are. I suppose he'll just have to count his blessings that you haven't seduced half the female population on Hoth, yet."

Han chuckled, saying nothing. It amused him how his reputation had built as a careless womanizer – which he was…but hadn't been for a long time. Sure, he flirted left, right and centre with all the women, that was just his nature. But he hadn't exactly had the time, nor the right sort of motivation for a sexual encounter in a long time. Chewie joked around about it giving him an aura of mystery – something women loved. Or, all women excepting one, at least.

Leia came forward, as Rieekan stepped back, addressing the remaining troops with further instructions and details on the layout of the rescue, then assigning them their positions. Han watched her, leaning back as he waited for his name to be called out along with Luke's… "Ryles, Skywalker, Jordan – you'll be accompanying me," she stated briskly and he froze, frowning.

Luke glanced at him, a little apologetically, "I guess you're the one needed elsewhere."

"Guess so," Han muttered, staring at Leia, though her gaze passed over him neutrally, as she assigned him and Chewie other positions.

The groups departed into their formations and Luke sauntered over to join Leia, who greeted him with a warm smile, laughing at something he said. Han turned away, swallowing down something bitter that tasted suspiciously like jealousy…Luke was his _friend_ , there was no reason for him to hold any ill-feelings against him, especially not over a woman. Let the Princess choose whomever she wanted…there was no reason for him to care. Except he did. He cared a great deal.

He had supposed after that unexpected encounter in his ship that she'd be warmer towards him, but she wasn't. If anything, she'd only become more distant, as though he'd done something wrong. He couldn't figure out for the life of him _what_ he'd done wrong, however. It couldn't have to do with him giving her that crystal…she'd practically tackled him in her gratitude…but, things had only changed between them since then. He hadn't tried to figure out what was wrong, though, only had engrossed himself more fully in his assignments. He hadn't decided whether or not he'd stay, so maybe it was best that Leia kept her distance for the time being; it was becoming increasingly difficult, controlling some of his baser instincts when he was around her. But, still, part of him wished she wouldn't.

And now as he grit his teeth, making his way towards the _Falcon_ , Chewie following silently behind him, he wondered…even if he did leave…would it really matter that much to her?

* * *

Leia paced her office floor furiously. The day had been an absolute mess. The rescue mission had not gone to plan, there had been far too many casualties and careless, reckless Han Solo had almost gotten himself killed. She had noted he'd seemed a little distracted, but she'd hardly suspected it would culminate in that dangerously shallow dive he'd taken the _Falcon_ in. Her heart had nearly stopped for a moment – she'd fully expected the ship to crash into smithereens by that rock, but it had jerkily managed to curve back upwards before the worst could pass.

She had deliberately chosen not to include him in her group to make sure she didn't get distracted, but that hadn't worked very well, had it? She'd been rattled – she hadn't been as clear-minded and sharp as she usually was and she'd made mistakes. She hardly ever made mistakes.

Once they'd arrived back on Hoth and she'd reiterated the events back to the General, she had barked out a brief order for Han to see her in her office, but it seemed as though the Captain was taking his own sweet time about it – it had been ten minutes, already.

She had enough. Stomping her way to the door, she flung it open, prepared to angrily barge out, only to collide face-first into the Captain's chest.

"Oof!" she grimaced. The day couldn't get any worse, could it?

He caught her shoulders, steadying her, "You alright?"

"Can't you look where you're going?" she demanded, her face reddening as she stepped back.

He raised an eyebrow, but wisely refrained from responding. "You asked me to come to your office?"

"Yes, yes I did," she closed the door behind him, retreating to the safe corner behind her desk. "I asked you to meet me here ten minutes ago."

Han warily approached her, crossing his arms, "Luke was relaying what happened today."

"Whatever Luke had to say could wait. You should've been here on time."

"Fine. I apologize, Your Royal Highness," he laid emphasis on the title, irking her further, "Now, will you tell me why you ordered me here?"

"I called you here to talk about your irresponsibility today," she gritted her teeth as he rolled his eyes. "You could've killed yourself! And Chewbacca too! What were you thinking, making that dive?"

"I knew I'd make it," he replied arrogantly, "I've been in tighter corners."

"That doesn't make it any more acceptable! This isn't one of your joyrides, Captain, we've been over this before, you can't allow for reckless mistakes."

"Reckless mistakes? From what Luke's told me, you weren't holding your moral high ground today either, Princess," he retorted, "What the hell were you thinking, sending him in the middle of that madness?"

"He handled –"

"Don't tell me he handled himself fine! He could've been killed, he's young and naïve, you know that already! He wants to be some goddamn hero, so of course he'll want to head right into the fray, but that doesn't mean _you can just allow it_!"

"I'm the one in charge here, Captain –"

"Oh, right. I'm just the idiotic underling who doesn't know what he's doing. I've been piloting for years; I know how to handle my ship. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Rieekan!"

"The General's already complained far too many times about your behaviour to me, I'm the only thing standing between you and a dismissal!"

"So then, why are you?" he challenged, placing his hands on the desk, leaning forward so he was on eye-level with her, "Let me leave, then, if you're so keen on it."

"Oh please, we both know you can't stay in one place for too long. I don't need to dismiss you, you'll do it yourself," she retorted angrily.

"Can't stay in my place, you mean," his eyes glittered dangerously, moving closer. The desk wasn't providing much of a barrier and she certainly wasn't backing off. "You think I'm some low-life, here for the hell of it, don't you? I'm certainly not Luke, I'm not the golden boy, here to fight for some righteous cause – on that account, you're right. But, think about this, Princess. You're not the saintly figure in white all the time – you make mistakes, too. You make reckless decisions, you lose your temper, you've done things you've regretted because you're a person, too. So, don't pretend to be something you're not. At least I know what I am. What are you?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it, staring at him in shock. She hadn't expected that from him. What was she? What was she fighting for? She couldn't even be sure anymore, everything blurred around the lines. She was just tired. So tired. Of fighting. Of running away. Of pretending not to care. Of pretending to constantly know what she was doing, keeping herself together.

Some of the anger receded from Han's eyes as he watched the emotions pass through hers. He sighed, standing up straight and holding out a hand, "C'mon."

"Where?" she looked at him, confused.

"I think we both need to blow off some steam. It's been a long day."

She didn't question him further, but followed him out and to the hangar where the _Falcon_ was. He led her to the storage compartment where they held their training sessions. It had been a while since they had a training session, she'd gotten pretty good. He proceeded to strip off his jacket and boots and she followed with her heavy snow gear, heaping them in a small pile on the floor. She wasn't sure if this was going to help them though, she was already getting warning signals in her head, the tension between them had hardly eased, but at this point, she could hardly care. All she wanted was to forget about her responsibilities in the moment and let go.

She gave him no warning before throwing a punch. He blocked it deftly, his countenance unreadable, lashing back out. She ducked under the swinging arm and caught it, pressing it against his back from behind him, twisting his arm tightly enough to hurt. He winced and she loosened her grip immediately, but that only left him room to turn his body back around and hooking his leg around her ankle, tumbling her over. Six months ago, she would have hit the ground with a thud and suffered a sore tailbone for days, but now she only caught herself with her hands, springing back up lithely and kicking out, making sharp contact with his middle. He staggered back, breathing heavily – they both were – and leaned back against a crate, waiting for her to make her next move.

* * *

The air had turned heavy, tangible in its warmth, touched with the light, clean scent of her – something lemony and fresh. Her cheeks were stung rosy, her flushed skin disappearing under her camisole; he couldn't help but wonder if she was pink everywhere else too. She was normally so pale – he loved bringing colour to her; in angering her, flustering her, what ever way he could. Passion painted her _human_ , and she was all the more beautiful for it.

She was all wound up; raw, restless energy coiled up, waiting to strike. She needed an outlet, but it was probably better that wasn't him. He grabbed a punching board from the side and held it in front of him, "Here. Just strike out as hard as you can."

She walked over wordlessly and glanced up at him, before setting her focus to the padded board. At first she hit out in practiced, calculated moves…but, then she glanced up at him again, and resumed, applying much more force, punching out roughly without thought. He took a step back with the force of it, but he only came at him, harder, faster, until he was certain she was going to leave hard, aching calluses all over her knuckles. He didn't stop her, though. He just watched, silent, standing as still as possible until her energy burned out.

She threw out one last punch – probably picturing his face on the board, he figured wryly – before stepping back and examining her hand. Her knuckles were considerably reddened, he knew for a fact they'd hurt like hell later on, but she didn't make a fuss. Only scrutinized them thoughtfully.

"I've got something for sore knuckles, if you'd like," he offered, dropping the board. She nodded and he took her to his cabin, rummaging through a drawer until he found the little pot of salve. Leia sat on the edge of his bed, looking tired – though not in that old, world-weary way she sometimes did. She looked spent, her brown hair tangled and messy, bits falling out of her thick braids.

He handed her the container, "It smells bad, but it'll help lessen the soreness and marks."

"Thank you," she responded quietly, opening it and beginning to apply it clumsily over her bruised hand.

"You're gonna have to rub it in," he added. She bit down on her lip and attempted to press her fingers harder against her knuckles, but he could tell it was an effort for her. It probably hurt a lot worse than hell.

"Here, give it to me," he said gruffly, holding out his hand. She hesitantly placed hers in his and he dipped his fingers in the green stuff, before gently circling around her knuckles, building up the pressure. She tensed up and he sought conversation to distract her. "You feel better now? After letting all that out?"

"I was pretty angry, before," she admitted, "It was unfair of me to speak to you like that."

"Nah, I probably deserved it," he shrugged, rubbing his thumb across the bone of her index finger, "I was angry too." He didn't specify why. She let out a tiny gasp as he pressed down hard and he grimaced, "Sorry. Need a drink?"

"I'll be fine," she shook her head, "Thank you, though. If you hadn't brought me here, I'd probably be yelling at some poor pilot in the barracks…I'm not very good at controlling my anger."

"You have a lot to be angry about, I don't blame you," he said frankly, "And I'm not one to judge. We make quite the pair, don't we, Princess?"

"We certainly do," a tiny smile curved her lips for an instant, then just as quickly faded away. "When you're angry…what do you do? What helps?"

He was surprised she asked him. "I fly, usually," he admitted, circling his fingers rhythmically over her knuckles, hardly paying attention to what he was doing, "Usually taking the Falcon around helps…but sometimes it doesn't…"

She nodded, "I tend to immerse myself in work."

"Exactly. We've all got something to hone things down. But if you've got too much energy in your system, there's nothing like hitting something to make you feel better. Or breaking something," he added as an afterthought.

"Breaking something?" she looked amused.

"Chewie's specialty," he grinned, "Usually someone's bones, if he's really angry."

She laughed, the pure sound of it ringing clear and bright in the little room. "Why were you angry today?"

His amusement faded and he focused down on her hand, "It was nothing. Little things rile me up, you know me."

"I don't think you're a low-life," she said softly, "And I've never meant to insinuate that I look down on you or anything like that."

"I know," he said simply, and that was enough to suffice. He'd probably massaged enough of the ointment into her skin by now but he couldn't bring himself to stop touching her, so he let his thumb pass over the back of her hand in lazy strokes.

She tensed up again, but this time he knew it couldn't have been from pain, he wasn't going near her knuckles. He didn't look up at her, unsure of what he'd see and questioned, "Still hurts?"

"Just a little."

"But not here?" his index finger traced down to her wrist, where he could make out the delicate veins under her pale skin, "You didn't sprain anything here, did you?"

"No, it doesn't hurt there," she confirmed, but curiously enough, her fingers had begun to quiver, almost imperceptibly.

He followed the lines of her palm, tracing the tiny trembles to the tips of her fingers, gently pulling back and forth, "And it doesn't hurt when you close and open your fist?"

"I had no idea you had picked up from the nurses," her tone was dry, but she was still shaking.

"Not the nurses. I know a fracture from experience," he explained, tracing the outline of her fingers.

"I fractured my hand?"

"No, your hand seems fine to me, if a bit bruised and raw…which begs the question…why are you trembling?"

And then he looked at her and wished he hadn't because her eyes were wide and vulnerable, staring back at him. She attempted to tug her hand away, but he still held on, searching her. "Let go," she mumbled, "Please."

He did and she rose up awkwardly from the bed, inching her way out of the room. "You're not staying?" he inquired, opting for nonchalance as he wiped his sticky hands off with a towel.

She looked back with a small sad smile, "Are you?"

And then he knew if he left, it would matter very much to her indeed.

* * *

 **A/N: Wellll, would ya look at that? I didn't take super long to update this time, did I? :P Thank you again for all the lovely responses. Just letting you know there are about three or four more chapters until we get to the** ** _ANH_** **timeline. Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Do let me know what you think :)**


	18. Chapter 18

_"_ _We need? Well, what about what you need?" – Han Solo, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back_

* * *

Leia paced her office, opening and clenching her still-bruised hand between intervals. She'd just had an interview with Rieekan. As much as she respected the man and had even grown to like him, she often wished he wouldn't be so damningly perceptive.

"We need him here, Leia," the General had stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "You'd best tell him that because if he gets any notion of leaving, he needs to know what he is worth here. The men respect him, they like him and he knows how to get them to work as a team. You know that."

"With all due respect, General, why don't you tell him yourself?" she had blurted. She hardly wanted to be the one to tell Han they needed him. She only had so much dignity to uphold. Not to mention, she had been avoiding him quite actively of late. Perhaps it was because part of her knew that admitting to him that _they_ needed him was far to close to a more intimate truth…

Rieekan had raised a grey eyebrow at her, letting an uncomfortable pause settle and she had immediately regretted her choice of words. She had sounded like a petty brat…or worse, like a woman having marital issues with a wild husband. She winced at the thought. May the gods bless the poor unfortunate that took _him_ in.

"I believe I have made it clear on a number of times," Rieekan drew her out of her muddled thoughts. "But, I don't believe the weight of the matter has settled upon him quite seriously."

"The Captain has hardly been known to take matters seriously, General," she pointed out dryly.

"And yet, I believe you have more influence over him, than I."

Leia wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. "I think," she chose her words carefully, "the Captain follows his own schedule. If he wants to leave, he will. And there is nothing anyone can say that could possibly change that."

The General had nodded with a sigh, staring pensively into the distance. More lines had gathered around his eyes and forehead than there had been before he had become General. War aged them all; they had all made more sacrifices and lost more than they could count.

She took a deep breath and said, "I'll tell him...but I can't promise anything."

The General looked at her, "Just try. That's enough for me."

* * *

Han was in the refresher, using the sonic shower. He definitely missed the real thing – there was nothing like hot water running down your back after a hard, long day – but he had learned to make do with the device. It was better than nothing after all.

He had a lot of time to think after Leia had left him in his cabin the other day and he had figured, much to his relief, that Leia did care for him in her own way. And that him leaving would do as much damage for his troops' morale as it would do to her. Sure, she would never admit that. But she knew it and he knew it too and that made all the difference in the world.

It was no longer simply a question of staying for the money. He was staying because somehow, along the way, he'd begun to believe in the cause. He was staying for his men. He was staying for his friends. And he was staying for her.

He wondered how Luke might feel about the matter. The boy no longer gazed at Leia with the puppy-eyed adoration he had when he had first met her, but he cared for her too, nonetheless. He had matured, Han realized fondly. He was just as idealistic as he had been upon their introduction to each other, but war had transformed him into a man. He wasn't lacking the female attention either, Han recalled with a chuckle. The Golden Boy, they called him; females flocked around him at award ceremonies, training and missions alike. And with his gentle smile and gentlemanly manner, he was, in short, everything Han was not. That idea had never bothered him before; not long ago, he would have sneered at the mere ideal of him. And yet now, he was…could it be? He was jealous. Because while Han rarely lacked in the attention of the women around him either, he did with the only one that mattered.

The Princess was hardly as comfortable in his presence as she was in Luke's. She sought the boy out, she smiled and laughed with him. They went together so well, they did: the Golden Boy and the Ice Princess. Luke could calm Leia in her worst moods, Han merely served to inflame her. Perhaps he wasn't good enough for her, after all hadn't Luke himself uttered that swift and final " _No_ ," at the merest suggestion of "a Princess and a guy like me?" A guy like him. But if Han truly was the scoundrel everyone thought he was – and he knew he was – he would never let a woman like Leia go.

He strode out of the refresher, pulling on his trousers. He needed a nap, a good long nap. If Chewie could hear him think – and Han sometimes rather suspected he did – he would say Han was going soft. Nothing like some well-deserved sleep to clear his head, he decided. He was far too tired.

He was heading towards his cabin, when he heard her begin, "Han, I have to talk-" and then stop.

He turned around slowly to look at Leia. Her lips were parted in surprise, her gaze was travelling up his form, taking in the fact that he was indeed not wearing a shirt, his trousers very loosely hung, snug upon his hips. He knew that he was a well-built man; lean, but not lanky, tall, yet broad and over the past couple years he had definitely developed a finer physique. He had noted these things about himself in a sort of nonchalant way and yet when Leia stared at him like that, he felt far more aware of himself than he had in a long time. It was one thing to know women appreciated his body; it was quite another to take in Leia's dazed examination of him. She liked what she saw. When she finally snapped her eyes to his face, he smirked at her. Slowly. And took pleasure in the pink flush that started to creep up her face even as she sought the words to proclaim her indifference.

"Like what you see?" he drawled, before she could get the chance to say anything.

"You seem to actually expect me to deign to respond to that," she finally found her voice, folding her arms sternly. She kept her eyes determinedly focused on his face.

"That wasn't a no," he chuckled, turning around, heading to his cabin. She followed after a muffled curse, cautiously positioning herself by the doorframe as he rummaged through a drawer for a shirt.

Leia gulped as Han pulled a shirt over his head, the muscles in his abdomen moving under his skin as he did so. Curious, how a man dressing himself could prove such an intimate affair for the onlooker. He grabbed a belt and slung it through the loopholes of his trousers deftly. She didn't realize she was staring until he looked up with a quirked grin.

She immediately shifted her focus to the wall behind his head, "If you need privacy, you need only ask."

"I'm fine, sweetheart, I can't say my sensibilities are offended by a bit of female scrutiny, though I can't speak for yours," he quipped smugly and she gritted her teeth. It was true, though. He was a man so utterly physical, so comfortable in his own body – her antithesis in nature.

"Don't," she forced out.

"Call you sweetheart? Or offend your sensibilities?" he was advancing towards her now, his shirt still loosely hung about his shoulders, gaping wide at the neck and revealing tanned skin she was trying desperately not to notice.

"It would take more than a half-dressed man to offend my sensibilities," she rolled her eyes, attempting at indifference.

"Well, I apologize for not doing them justice," he murmured in a low tone, moving his hand to the doorframe above her head and leaning far too close.

Heat flooded her cheeks. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Didn't you?" he parried with a soft chuckle that twisted her insides in a strangely pleasant way.

She didn't like that. Didn't like the way he made her almost forget why she'd come in the first place. She lifted a hand and placed it on his chest as though to push him away, but he didn't budge. "I'm here to tell you something important," she told him severely.

"Mmhm," he caught her hand and examined it with a small frown, "You've been using the salve, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have…" she was momentarily transfixed by the sight of him tenderly seeing to her hand, before snapping back to attention, "You're changing the subject!"

"I was only asking a question," he said mildly, unexpectedly pressing his mouth to her knuckles. She dropped her hand as quickly as she would have had he burned her.

"Stop that."

"What?" he pretended innocence.

She glared at him. "I'm here for a reason, you know that."

"Not to gaze in awe at my half-dressed form, yeah, I surmised as much," he nodded with a serious countenance and she fought the urge to punch him.

"Han."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop," he looked down at her, the humour vanishing from his eyes as he took in the uncertainty in hers, "Tell me."

"General Rieekan wants to know if you're staying for good," she blurted out in a rush. The faster she got this over with, the better.

"The General wants to know?" he said slowly, raising a brow.

"Yes."

"Well, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you have the faintest curiosity about the matter?" he queried dryly.

"Don't tease," she glowered, "You know very well that I – oh, it doesn't matter, this was a mistake," she shook her head, turning her back to him and taking a step out, "It's not as though you –"

"Leia." Han grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room, shutting the door behind her and pushing her back against it, her arm caught against her back by his. He was standing very close and she knew instinctively that she was in trouble.

"Han," she began warily, but he shook his head, "What were you going to say?"

She frowned, "It's not as though you're going to stick around long enough for –"

"No, not that. You said, you know very well that I...?" he prompted.

She flushed, "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." He looked at her intently and she was keenly aware of how easy it would be for him to bend down and kiss her. And how easy it would be for her to let him. She didn't know her gaze had dropped to his mouth until she heard him curse under his breath.

"Leia, what were you going to say?" he repeated grimly. He looked as though he was fighting for control of himself. Did he want to kiss her? "Leia."

She pulled herself together and gave him her best Royal Highness glare, "It doesn't matter, does it? One day you're going to leave and it's better you tell me now than later. It doesn't matter if I tell you to stay or Rieekan does it because nothing is going to –"

"I'm staying."

"- stop you from – what?"

"I'm staying," he looked at her steadfastly, "As long as you need me for."

Her breath caught and she wondered for a brief moment if his words meant more than they seemed…but then she quickly brushed aside the thought, even while she felt something sweetly akin to happiness flood her from the inside.

"Yes, well. For the time being you are quite useful."

He saw that she was teasing him and he grinned, responding lazily, "I'm glad you've seen fit to recognize I'm a man of many talents."

"Don't let it get to you. Your ego's large enough as it is."

"Among other things."

She did punch him then, only lightly, though, and smiled at him. He was a man she had grown to care for; with all his quirks and annoying habits, his mocking taunts and quick temper, he was her friend and a part of her little makeshift family. And even while the exact depth of her feelings for him might confuse her and terrify her in equal measures…all she knew in that moment, was that he had made her very happy. Just as happy as he had when he had given her the Alderaan crystal, yet this time she no longer feared that happiness might be taken away.

He smiled down at her too, not mockingly, but with true warmth. He let go of the arm behind her back, but settled his hand at the indent of her waist, lifting his other hand to push back a loose bit of hair that had escaped from her bun. The back of his hand brushed along her cheek gently and then lifted her chin up. Her pulse had begun to pick up. She knew it and he knew it too as his hand rested along the side of her neck. Was he going to kiss her? Somehow she didn't have it in her to push him away…

The door rattled behind her and she jolted, wide-eyed. She quickly moved aside as Luke barged in. "Han, I was thinking…oh." Luke must have gathered something from Leia's flushed face and Han's averted eyes for he began to take a step back, looking between the two of them warily, "Um…"

"Han's decided to stay," Leia said abruptly, with a too-bright smile.

Luke's expression turned from uncertainty to excitement, turning to his friend, "You are? I mean, I kinda figured, it's been more than two years already, but –"

"I just figured I'm better off saving your ass here, than leaving you to fend for yourself, kid," Han chuckled, clapping him on the back.

Luke laughed, "I only owe you once, don't think I'm that incapable of survival."

"He's right. Luke's a man of his own, now, too," Leia agreed.

"Well, I suppose if you don't need me, then…" Han's voice trailed off glumly and Luke punched his arm, "Don't get any ideas, one of these days you might need me to save you instead."

"Hasn't happened yet, kid," Han waved him off airily, "Hasn't happened yet."

Leia slowly crept out of the cabin as the two bantered on. They didn't seem to notice, though she almost thought Han's eyes had flashed towards her retreating form for a split second before returning to Luke. She heard him laugh uproariously as she made her way off the ship and she smiled to herself, shaking her head. Part of her regretted Luke interrupting them, but she was largely relieved. If he had kissed her…what then? Han might have saved her a number of times…but who would save her from Han?


	19. Chapter 19

_"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind." - Han Solo, Episode V_

* * *

"Ord Mantell?" Leia frowned, "What's there for us?"

Rieekan swept a gnarled hand over the green hologram between them, revealing a database.

"The Black Sun syndicate?" Leia murmured, scrolling through the logs, "But they haven't been operating in years."

"Not openly, not anymore," Rieekan steepled his fingers together, "But our sources tell us their base is still in full effect. They're working with the Empire."

"You want us to destroy it?"

"No, no. You wouldn't be able to," he shook his head, "It's a complex system, one we don't have time to fully untangle. Too many people involved. But there's someone there who might be able to help us."

"And is this person trustworthy?" Leia inquired skeptically.

"She's desperate and she's willing to work for whoever will help her in return. She's suffered greatly from the rise of the Empire. It's not ideal, I know. But we're running out of time."

Leia paused in consideration, then resigned herself to the situation. The General was right; they had no other way of seeing into the enemy's plans and, of late, the opposition had been a step ahead of them. It was a risk they were going to have to take.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Find Cora Reaves." Rieekan swiped his finger to the left and a slide of the woman's face appeared on the screen, details on her occupation and history displayed on the side.

Leia took quick inventory of the thick twin tentacles protruding from the female's gaunt green skin, along with the information. "She's a bounty hunter?"

"Retired. But still involved in the syndicate and she wants out."

"That's all she's seeking? A safe haven?" Leia narrowed her eyes at him.

"And a monetary reward," Rieekan admitted, "But she'll tell us all she knows about the syndicate's involvement in the Empire's plans."

Leia nodded, "Alright."

"And I want you to take Solo with you. The area's more his expertise."

Part of her wanted to protest, but she knew he was right. It wasn't as though she could hide from the man forever. It had become almost a ritual of theirs. One step closer, two steps back, and around they danced from the truth.

* * *

"Ord Mantell, huh?" Han slid into his seat on the _Falcon_ , gearing the ship for take-off.

"I take it you've been there before?" Leia inquired absently.

"Sure, I've been there. Not the prettiest of places, I'll tell ya that. It's almost as bad as Tatooine with the amount of corruption and trafficking that goes on there," he pulled a lever forward and the ship took off from the base.

"Slave trafficking?"

"Mhmm. Illegal drug smuggling too."

Something had triggered Leia's memory, however, with his previous words. "Reaves has a child," she said slowly, "She's probably trying to save him from slavery."

"Makes sense," Han nodded, "And I'm thinkin' the Empire's probably makin' use of the slaves as well."

They fell into silence as they flew out of the mesosphere and the world around them turned to white-speckled black. Han broke it after a while, clearing his throat, "So, the General wanted this to be a two-man mission, then?"

"He said the less attention we attracted, the better," Leia responded with a shrug, "It's going to be quick anyway. Just go in, get Reaves and her child, and get out."

Han reclined back in his seat slightly, taking a careful glance at her, "Princess, about the other night…"

She slanted him a sharp look, "What about it?"

"Nothing," he turned aside hastily, "nothing. Just thought I'd remind you that I'm here…y'know…for as long as you need me for. I'm not sticking around to make things difficult for you."

His last words caught her attention. "Han, I never thought that," she said slowly. "I _want_ you to stay."

"I know, I know. For the Rebellion."

"Well, yes, but…" she hesitated on a half-truth, "you're my friend, too."

He turned to her, his expression unreadable, the air between them fraught with unspoken words, layered with some sort of tension. She avoided his gaze and focused on the small grey-green planet looming closer and closer from the distance.

"Like Luke is?"

She stifled a smile. He was jealous. She hadn't thought Han Solo could ever get jealous, but the man never ceased to surprise her. She couldn't pretend it didn't send a small frisson of warmth through her though. She looked back at him to catch the quickest of winces cross his expression; he clearly hadn't intended to blurt out those words.

"Looks like we're almost there," he abruptly straightened his posture, directing the ship. A curt voice from the intercom inquired of their names and business and Han smoothly responded with the false aliases. Han landed on a small landing pad and handed out a few bills to the security officer who approached, with a brief nod.

Leia shot him an inquiring glance as the tentacled man left. "This place is rife with corruption," Han explained, "All you gotta do is pay them off for the right price to get by without going through the security check. It's why this place is the hub of illegal transport."

Leia nodded and they made their way across the landing pad towards the city. "Pull your hood up, sweetheart," Han advised, "Anyone can recognize a Princess, even in your current getup. And keep your blaster handy, just in case."

"You're _very_ well acquainted with this place, aren't you?"

Han winked at her, back to his old self, "Takes me right back to my good-for-nothing smuggling days."

They kept close together, but maintained a casual stance. It was too easy to blend in with the crowd in the narrow, dusty streets. All sorts of creatures lurked in corners playing Sabacc and other trading games, some off to the market for shopping, others headed for the local bar.

"We're meeting her at the bar, just across," Leia pointed.

"Uh, huh. Hope you remember your training, Princess."

"My training?"

"It's all too easy to get into a brawl at a place like this and I rather hope I won't be fighting alone."

Leia grinned knowingly, "Perhaps you're the one who should be afraid of getting recognized, Captain."

"Afraid? Me?" his eyebrows shot up in mock indignation and swung open the door to the bar.

Inside, the place was crowded and loud with music. Twi'lek danced seductively in a corner, a band playing next to them. The bar was already full with customers and most of the tables were taken. "Here," Han led her to an empty one and Leia took a seat. Despite the rough, bustling atmosphere, Leia revelled in it. She enjoyed how no one took a second glance at her and she could simply lounge back and order a drink without being stared at. It was a novel feeling.

"How 'bout I buy you a drink, darlin'?" a scaled creature crept up behind her, eyeing her lasciviously. Well, so much for going unnoticed.

"I don't think so," Han half rose, but Leia waved him off, not wanting to create a confrontation.

"Not today," she responded sweetly, "but, perhaps another time."

"I promise I can pay you double whatever he's paying you," the Rodian offered.

Leia's eyes widened at the rude insinuation, but merely shook her head and turned aside. When she felt a hand paw at her cloaked thigh, however, she swiftly pulled out her blaster and aimed it at his groin. "Leave," she said coolly, "I won't tell you another time."

The Rodian backed off quickly and was soon lost in the crowd.

"Nicely done," Han murmured approvingly.

She gave him a half-smile and then turned to find one of the Twi'lek approaching, her hips swaying in fluid circles as she moved towards them. "I don't suppose you're seeking further entertainment?" she spoke in halting Basic as she directed her glance towards them both, "You don't seem to be enjoying the music and dance much…"

"Not much to our taste, no," Han appeared to be casually surveying her figure. Leia knew it was all part of the ruse, but it didn't mean she had to like it.

"Why don't you join me upstairs?" the Twi'lek suggested, holding out her hand and Han dropped her a few coins. "You too," she shot Leia a wink.

They followed the female up the rickety staircase at the back. "You're certain this is her?" Leia murmured.

"She fits the description and picture. Besides, she approached us," Han quietly replied.

"She could've approached us for…other things…"

"Well, then, sweetheart, looks like we'll be getting more Twi'lek entertainment than we thought we bargained for," Han smirked and she rolled her eyes in response.

The Twi'lek led them to a small room and then bolted it shut after them. Her expression immediately shifted from sultry to urgent, "You're from the Rebellion?"

"Yes," Leia replied, with no small amount of relief. "You're Cora Reaves."

"I am. You will be transporting me and my son to your base, is that correct?"

Han nodded, "We're going to have to make it look like we're buying you off. You have the information?"

"Yes, but not here," Cora shook her head, "I'll tell you everything you need to know once we're out of here."

"How do we know you won't betray us?" Leia countered.

Cora stared back grimly, "If you're looking for betrayal, it isn't from me. I am not the one who betrayed your previous general to the Empire."

Leia's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to question her, but Han put a steadying hand on her shoulder, "Not now. We need to get out of here."

She nodded, taking a calming breath, "Where's your son?"

"He's at work in the mines. He's a slave for the jewel traders."

Han glanced at Leia, "Let's get to it, then."

* * *

Buying Cora off went without suspicion; Han was all too good at affecting that lazy drawl and insolent stare befitting their purposes and they had been in the upstairs room long enough so as to give the appearance of authenticity. Lore Reaves, however, was another matter entirely. He was clearly valued in the mines and his owner was loathe to part with him.

"You're truly willing to pay his price?" the man stared at them suspiciously, "What value is he to you?"

"That's none of your business, is it?" Han waved him off airily, "Name your price."

"200 Republican credits."

Cora sucked in a sharp breath. Han glanced at Leia – Cora had not costed nearly half as much – but Leia gave him a little nod. They didn't have much of a choice and they had no time to barter.

Han dropped the currency into the man's hands, who stared at them with no small amount of greed and surprise. "Very well," he said grudgingly, "Take the boy. I'll send someone to bring him."

"As soon as possible, if you don't mind. I have places to be," Han responded in a haughty tone.

As the man left, Leia looked at him, "We can't leave without him."

"I know, but Rieekan's gonna be none too pleased to know that we're draining his treasuries."

"This was his plan, not mine," Leia replied, but a frown creased her countenance.

"This information better be worth it," Han stared at Cora, who had remained silent during the exchange.

"Important enough to save an innocent life? I think so," the Twi'lek looked back at him fearlessly, as though daring him to argue. Instead, Han felt a pang of guilt and turned aside. He'd forgotten what it was like for a mother to defend her child.

Before he knew it, a small hand had found its way to his and clasped his comfortingly. He didn't need to look to recognize it belonged to Leia. He squeezed back briefly before letting go as the slave owner returned with the boy and another man.

"Here, he's yours," the slave owner pushed Lore Reaves towards them. The child couldn't have been more than five years old, but he made his way towards them with a weary set to his shoulders and haunted look in his large eyes.

"Interesting choice of wares you've procured there," the other man commented casually. He wore a dark leather jacket and had a blaster and a blade strapped around his waist; his face covered, probably from the dust in the mines.

Han gave him a brief nod and began to stride away with Leia and the Reaves. "Clearly you haven't procured enough to pay back Jabba yet."

The next few minutes sped by in a wild blur. Han spun around, his hand going to his blaster just as the bounty hunter fired. Leia pushed him aside in time for the shot to just graze his shoulder, and fired back, hitting the man's hand. The blaster fell to the ground. Cora and her son took off running and the slave owner backed away.

Han and Leia warily moved towards the man, blasters held at the ready. The bounty hunter winced, but seemed to realize picking up the blaster with his other hand would be a futile effort. "That was a warning, Solo," he barked, "Your borrowed time is up."

"Says you," Han retorted.

"Says Jabba. There's a steady figure available for anyone who catches you, dead or alive."

"Well, tell Jabba I have what he wants. More than what we bargained for, actually, and I'll be returning in a few days."

Leia stiffened beside him, but Han dared not look at her.

"I doubt Jabba cares for that now," the bounty hunter snickered, but Han fit his finger over the trigger threateningly, "He will once he sees what I have for him."

The man shook his head, clearly amused, "You've softened up, Solo, you're quaking in your boots. Not quite as smooth and sorted as you used to be, hmm?"

"Says the one missing a hand," Han retorted.

"Ah yes, thanks to your lady friend over here…ah…" the man peered up at Leia in recognition, "Isn't a Princess a little too fine for your palate?"

Han pointed the blaster a little closer towards his head, "You tell Jabba what I said and you can leave here in one piece. Understood?"

"Perfectly," the bounty hunter drawled. Han lowered his guard, beginning to back off when the other man pulled out his blade in a swift, sudden motion and Leia shot him cleanly in the heart.

"He's gone," she evaluated her handiwork crisply and set off, "Let's go make sure Reaves hasn't taken off without us."

Han gaped at her for a split second, before schooling his features to calm. "Your reaction time was pretty damn good."

"You're lucky it was, or you wouldn't be standing here as we speak."

Something was wrong; she wasn't looking him in the eye, but strode determinedly towards the direction Cora and her son had left. "Princess?"

"Let's find Reaves," was all she said.

* * *

Thankfully, Cora and Lore had not run off far and they were able to get back to their ship without much difficulty. Leia, on the other hand, was cool and quiet the whole way back to Hoth.

"You alright, Your Worship?" Han queried as he directed the ship.

"I'm fine," she responded curtly.

He wondered if this had to do with his words with the bounty hunter. "Leia, I'm going to have to leave or I'll never –"

"I understand, Captain," she cut him off formally, "I'm going to check on our passengers, if you don't mind."

Han stared after her as she rose from her seat. The woman was an enigma, she was. If he didn't leave to see Jabba, the bounty hunters would be in constant search for him, wouldn't they? Risking all their missions, even potentially their base? He'd simply pay Jabba back and then return. Why was she suddenly angry at him?

"Leia," he caught her arm, "What's going on?"

"Not everything in the world concerns you, Captain," her tone turned frigid, "Would you please release me?"

He let go of her immediately, stung. "Now, now, Your Highness, no need to worry," he drawled sarcastically, "I know perfectly well where my place belongs."

"Good," she flung back, leaving.

Han ran a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath. The woman kept running hot and cold between intervals and he had no idea what to do with her. She was clearly upset, but refused to tell him what the matter was…how was he to know? He couldn't read minds, though he was pretty damn certain she wanted him to stay.

Staying was out of the question, though. This went beyond his life; he wasn't about to risk hers.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for staying patient with me and for all the wonderful reviews. This was my take on Han's encounter with the bounty hunter on Ord Mantell and I hope you enjoyed it; we're getting pretty close to Episode V.**

 **\+ I just realized my opening description of Cora Reaves did not in anyway match up to her species; I hadn't initially intended for her to be Twi'lek, so I had forgotten to change that first bit before posting. It's fixed now :)**


	20. Chapter 20

" _Well, I guess you don't know everything about women yet." – Princess Leia Organa, Episode 5: The Empire Strikes Back_

* * *

Leia watched Han stride into the quarters. She shouldn't be so distracted while she was helping the recruit navigate the snowy land from the new system, but Han had always been that. A distraction, she thought to herself bitterly. Why did she allow herself to feel, when it would only hold her back? Everyone she'd ever loved was gone from her life – what was the point in allowing anyone else into her heart when they'd simply abscond at a moment's notice?

A small part of her knew that Han didn't have much of a choice in the matter; his life, after all, was on the scales and he'd already escaped Jabba's clutches far too many times. But they could protect him here, couldn't they? He hadn't even given it time to consider; after Ord Mantell, he and Chewie had already begun on the Falcon's repairs to get them out of the base. Out for good. She harboured no illusions of him ever coming back. She wasn't a fool, no matter how foolishly she may have behaved when it came to him.

He had just returned from scouring the base after that meteorite had hit; he was telling the General about his findings – there were no lifeforms – but she couldn't bring herself to feel relief. She caught the hesitation in his face; he was going to tell the General he was leaving. And as soon as he voiced those words, she turned away. There was only so much emotion she could hold back.

As soon as she managed to school her features into cold nonchalance, she looked back to find him already looking at her. She couldn't read his expression now, but as he walked towards her, a small part of her hoped – a fool's hope – that he'd change his mind.

"Well, Your Highness, guess this is it," he spoke with casual indifference; as though nothing had changed from the time they'd met. But if he was hoping for her a tearful goodbye from _her_ side, he wasn't going to get it.

"That's right," she nodded coolly and she caught a glimpse of hurt beneath the insouciant façade, as his gaze dropped and he nodded, before his arrogance returned and he retorted, "Well, don't get all mushy on me, so long, Princess," and strode out the door.

She didn't care that the General and the soldiers had overheard; she didn't care that they were probably watching her now. She followed him out into the passage, even if it was a fool's errand, even if she did the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn't.

"Han!" she called and he stopped.

"Yes, Your Highnessness?" he turned, almost lazily. She would miss that; she'd miss the name-calling, even if he did it to provoke her.

"I thought you had decided to stay," she stopped in front of him with all the dignity her five-foot stature could muster.

"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind," he reminded her.

"Han, we _need_ you," she blurted out before she could think better of it. Something flashed across his face.

"We need?"

"Yes."

"Well, what about _you_ need?"

She pretended confusion; she'd already said enough. "I need?" He nodded and she knew he was waiting for something more, but she wouldn't give it to him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He clicked his tongue with a sardonic half-smile, "You probably don't," and walked away.

But, she kept following, against all her better instincts, ignoring the curious glances of the soldiers passing them, "And what precisely am I supposed to know?" If they were going to get this…thing…they had between them out, she wasn't going to be the one to voice it first.

"Come, on! You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me."

"Yes! You're a great help to us, you're a natural leader," she baited him.

He stopped in his tracks and pointed at her with evident exasperation, "No! That's not it."

She stared at him; what did he want her to say? His brown eyes held no glint of sly mischief; for once, they were perfectly serious. "Come on," he repeated, this time more softly, and stepped back to allow a boy to pass through between them, who scuttled away with his crate as quickly as he could. Every solider in the base knew to never come between the two during one of their arguments – literally or metaphorically.

Han leaned back towards her, more insistent, "Ahh, come on!"

"You're imagining things," she protested.

"Am I? Then why're you following me?" he taunted, "Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?" That leaned far too close to the truth and the hot flares in his eyes were far too frightening; their antagonism always seemed to spark attraction and she resisted the conflicting impulses to both push him away from her and pull him against her. She was a powder keg of raw instinct at the moment, but this was not the time.

"I'd sooner kiss a Wookiee," she retorted.

"I can arrange that," he stalked away just as quickly as she'd responded, "You could use a good kiss!"

And she watched him leave; regret curbing the fire, even as she thought to herself that this was probably for the best. She didn't need the heat or even the warmth. She might be the Ice Princess of the base, but that was the only way she would get things done.

* * *

Han worked at the ship, fuming. Leia had made her choice and he had made his. Now, he was leaving.

He accidentally hit his thumb with the wrench and he stepped back, cursing. He hadn't wanted to leave things between them like that, but it wasn't as though she had given them any opportunity to reconcile with matters. She refused to come to terms with her feelings and perhaps it was better for her, better for her base this way.

He sighed and Chewie stuck his furry head into the hatch inquiringly, "You alright?"

"I'm fine," he grunted.

"You don't look it. Had another fight with the Princess?"

"Don't talk to me about that one," Han muttered.

"Ah," his friend chuckled, "You're upset you didn't get a loving, heartfelt farewell."

"I wanted nothing of the sort," he retorted, working back at the control panel he was upgrading, "I wanted her to admit what she wanted from me."

"But, she's as stubborn as you are," Chewie shrugged, "What did you think would happen?"

Han didn't answer and the Wookiee paused before giving voice to his thoughts. "You would've stayed. Had she told you what she felt for you, you would've stayed."

Han fumbled for a moment, about to send his friend a cutting retort and then slumped his shoulders in defeat. "I would've stayed."

"Even though you'd risk your life?"

"Aren't I risking hers if I stay?"

"No bounty hunter would find you here," Chewie shook his head, "No, this isn't about endangering her life, you know that."

"She gave me some drivel about me being good for the men," Han avoided the hanging statement between them. "She wants me to stay, but she doesn't want me to know why."

"Because it's better for both of you this way," Chewie shrugged, "You'll get your freedom, she'll retain control of her base. She knows you influence her rationality."

"Well, she's made her choice," Han pointed out, "And now I've made mine."

"Your pride's getting the better of you."

"It's lasted me this far, hasn't it?" Han climbed out of the ship and pulled on his thick, fur-lined jacket and gloves. The cold in this place had seeped into his bones, he told himself, it had done him and his senses no good.

C-Threepio waddled his way towards him, the droid sidekick trailing behind and Han sighed. Great. Possibly the last farewell party he wanted to see. Goldenrod said something about the Princess wanting to see him. Well, if she wanted to see him, she could come herself – he wasn't about to obey her every command. "I don't wanna talk to her," he said, irritated.

But then the droid said something about Luke still having not returned. Han knew something had to have gone terribly wrong for his friend to not show up before the curfew. Well, he wouldn't stay behind for the Princess, but there was no way in this ice hell he'd leave his friend out there alone.

* * *

Leia paced the hangar worriedly. Now not only was Luke missing, but Han was too. She'd pushed her emotions to the back of her mind in front of the men – she refused to break down in front of them – but her stomach was churning. To think earlier she'd been concerned about revealing her feelings for Han; it was too late now. And Luke? If she lost Luke, she'd lose the one bit of pure goodness in her life. It had been all to easy to love Luke – he was more than her friend, he was practically family. Han, on the other hand…well, he'd sneaked his way into her heart unexpectedly, but she loved him too. He made her feel alive. Losing either one of them would destroy her…but to lose them both? She'd implode. There was only so much death she could take and yet, death didn't seem to care.

She should've been the one to go after Luke, not Han. Han had been ready to leave. But no one would've allowed the Princess to go out after hours in that desolate wilderness and no one would've sacrificed their lives for Luke. No one except Han. Perhaps it had been unfair of her to send word to him that Luke was still out there, but she had clung onto a shred of hope that somehow he'd be able to find him. Fool's hope. Now she had doomed them both. The doors had already been closed; how could they possibly survive the night?

She fought back the bile rising in her throat and continued her pacing. She wouldn't sleep, wouldn't go back to doing the things she probably _should_ be doing as a commander. She couldn't do anything else. And even though the odds were against her friends, part of her still continued to hope. And perhaps she was a fool for it, but she no longer cared. The ice had cracked a long time ago.

* * *

As soon as they landed in the hangar, the nurses had rushed over to retrieve Luke on a stretcher. The poor kid was barely breathing, but he'd make it. He had to. Han shivered uncontrollably even as someone draped a thick blanket over him.

"You need to get warmed up in the Falcon," Leia approached him, looking weary, but relieved.

"What about Luke?" he motioned with a trembling hand.

"They're going to put him in the bacta tank. Han, he'll be fine."

He nodded, but took in the dark smudges under her eyes, "You okay?"

She looked surprised, "I should be asking you that question."

"Leia, listen –" he started and then stopped as she abruptly drew her arms around him. She was so small, but so warm and his shivering immediately began to lessen.

"I am glad that you're alive. That you both are," she told him quietly, then pointed to his ship, "Go on. I'll send a nurse to come check on your vitals."

Part of him wanted to ask her to come with him…but too many things had been left unsaid between them and this wasn't the time. He'd be leaving as soon as he could after all. There was nothing to be said.

* * *

It didn't matter that she'd almost lost him; he still managed to aggravate every nerve in her body. After Luke had recovered and they had taken him out of the bacta tank, Han had gone back to his usual saucy self. The storms outside had worsened, so the General had refused anyone to leave the base until it lessened considerably and they managed to activate the energy field. And that meant Han was still sticking around for the time being. Evidently he had taken that to mean he would use every last possible minute of his time here to needle her.

"That's a good story," he looked positively smug as she explained why he couldn't leave the base just yet, "I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight." Behind him, Luke rolled his eyes.

"I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain," she responded calmly, earning a hearty chuckle from Chewbacca.

Han turned to his friend, looking injured, "Laugh it up, fuzzball." He strode towards Leia, "But, you didn't see us alone in the south passage." Leia's eyes widened; what tale was he inventing now? "She confessed her true feelings for me," Han put an arm around her, which she immediately shrugged off as her ire increased, "My-? Why you stuck-up, half-witted…"

Han begun to back away from her as though she were a wounded wampa, but he had infuriated her beyond measure. How dare he make light of the subject? And how dare he say anything in front of Luke? She knew perfectly well the boy adored her – the whole base knew it. Her tone increased as she continued to curse him, "…scruffy-looking…nerf-herder!"

Han turned back to her in mock indignation, "Who's scruffy looking?"

Her chest fell and rose rapidly as she caught her breath. How could the man be so utterly insensitive?

Han turned towards Luke conspiratorially, "Must've hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, kid?" Luke said nothing, but Leia could see the hurt in his eyes. That was it. She had enough.

* * *

Han strode out of the medbay, feeling considerably disheartened. Had he mistaken Leia's feelings for him or had Leia simply intended to get a rise out of him? Han didn't know. He had always assumed Luke's puppy love was one-sided, inconsequential. The kid just had a crush, that was all, he had thought. Or had he thought wrong?

All this time he'd been trying to get Leia to admit her feelings for him, but did Leia really even feel anything for him beyond friendship and attraction? After all, he was an ass. If he had proved anything just now, it was that. What had possibly incited him to say those things in front of Luke? Even if the kid wasn't in love with her, it still wasn't right. And it had clearly upset Leia as well.

He damned well wasn't going to apologize for it, though. Maybe he wasn't good enough for her and maybe he was a scoundrel, but Leia had hurt him too in her own cutting way. A slap in the face would've been an easier ordeal than watching her kiss his best friend.

* * *

 **A/N: Aaaand we're at the ESB arc. I can't believe this story has made it this far; thanks for all the love and support for it 3**


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